Most Wanted
by Silver Bee
Summary: A billionaire businessman, an engineering genius and an island full of secrets...
1. Chapter 1

_This isn't the story I expected to be posting next - I'd been working on some pre-Thunderbirds stories - but the Muse insisted and I'm not foolish enough to argue! It's not a sequel to 'Perfect Cousin' although it's set not long after and makes some references to events which took place in that story. One thing the Muse did agree on though, was that it's time for something a little lighter..._

_Tracys, Thunderbirds, etc don't belong to me._

Chapter One

The email was both unexpected and unwelcome. Brains sat back and considered it for a moment. Not that he was wondering how to respond - far from it. There was only one possible answer and that was an emphatic '_No'_. But the fact that he'd received the offer in the first place puzzled him and he found his thoughts drifting back to a time he'd rather have forgotten.

Brains had been fourteen when he'd met Marcus Ivins. The young genius had been taken under the wing of a Cambridge professor and, since coming to live with him, he'd been given free rein to attend any classes which took his interest. Once he'd completed all the Science courses he'd turned his attention to Engineering, joining the final year students in the certainty that he'd soon know even more than they did. Brains lived to study but even so, despite the praise lavished upon him by his guardian and his teachers it wasn't a particularly enjoyable life. He liked being at Cambridge but he was lonely. Other students were wary of him, intimidated by his age and his intelligence and more often than not put off by his problems in communicating. In those days he'd been even more socially inept than he was now and his tentative efforts to make friends had never met with any success.

The Engineering class was no different. As usual, many students were simply in awe of him, but a few resented him, angry at the fact that a boy who had never studied the subject before was showing them up within weeks of his arrival. Marcus, who had been the star student before Brains came on the scene, hadn't taken at all kindly to his presence. He might have been one of the most intelligent people Brains had ever met, but he was also one of the most spiteful. Undeterred by the knowledge that Brains' guardian was one of the most influential men in the university, he'd gone out of his way to make the boy's life a misery. Experiments were tampered with and notes rendered unreadable after coffee was spilled over them. Brains had immediately guessed who had been responsible but Marcus had denied any involvement and his friends had backed him up, making the most of their greater height and bulk as they surrounded the boy, challenging him to report them. As they'd anticipated, Brains had been too intimidated to fight back or even to ask his guardian or one of his tutors for help and from then on the bullying had escalated. Marcus was the worst of the offenders, mocking Brains' stammer and doing everything he could to shatter the boy's already fragile confidence. As a result Brains had withdrawn completely into himself. He spent even more time studying, turning his attention to Computing and ending up with two degrees at the end of the year, top of the class in both, much to Marcus's fury.

Brains hadn't seen the man since he'd graduated and he'd never regretted the fact. He doubted his rival had missed him either, which was why the email had come as such a surprise. After a cautious greeting, Marcus had apologised profusely for his behaviour all those years ago, begging forgiveness and admitting that he'd always felt guilty about his treatment of his young classmate and wanted to make amends for his past misdeeds. He'd concluded by asking Brains to consider coming to work with him on some apparently spectacular but unexplained project at a private research facility, well-funded and even more well-paid.

Brains didn't care what the project was, he simply wasn't interested. He sent a quick reply, acknowledging Marcus's apology – too little too late, he privately thought, whatever the motivation behind it – and refusing the offer. He assured the other man that he was happy where he was. Funding and wages weren't a problem and there was no prospect of him moving on.

It wasn't the first job offer Brains had received over the past few months. Since the unwelcome publicity he and Jeff Tracy had received following the attempt by a long-lost Tracy niece to infiltrate both Tracy Industries and International Rescue – although the press knew nothing about the latter, much to everyone's relief – Brains had found himself in the public eye, his contributions to TI's fortunes becoming clear and attracting the interest of many of Jeff's competitors. He'd never considered any of the offers though, despite their promise of a fresh start. Instead he'd retreated to Tracy Island, throwing himself into his work. He hadn't left the island since the New York police had finished with him and, quite frankly, he wouldn't care if he never left it again. Although his abilities and inventions had been praised by each and every journalist - hence the numerous offers of employment - there had inevitably been considerable focus on his appearance, his stammer and his lack of confidence and social skills. He'd been portrayed as the hapless victim of a scheming girl, easy prey for someone so beautiful and cunning. The whole thing had been utterly humiliating and he didn't think he'd ever really get over it. Not that he was the only one. It had been a tough few months for everyone as the family – and Brains considered himself a member of the family now more than ever - tried to come to terms with what had happened to them. It hadn't been easy but things finally seemed to be getting back to normal and Brains knew he wouldn't be going anywhere.

* * *

><p>"I told you he wouldn't go for it." Marcus Ivins swung round on his chair to face the woman who stood frowning at the side of his desk as she read Brains' email. "I made his life hell for a year. He'd have to be desperate or stupid to want to work with me again and he's clearly not either."<p>

"Well, since he rejected our initial offer it was worth a try," she told him. "After everything the press said about him I'd hoped he'd be a little easier to persuade. But since the grovelling apology didn't work it looks like we need to think of some other way to tempt him over to us."

"I don't see why you want him anyway," Marcus said, trying but not quite succeeding to keep the whine out of his voice. "I thought you were happy with my work."

"Oh we are," she assured him. "But you know what Sir Reuben's like. He only wants the best. And you lied to us, Marcus. You told us you were the best in your year."

"I was!" Marcus protested. "The kid wasn't officially on the class list. He doesn't count."

"Oh, I think he does. Degrees in Engineering and Computing in less than a year? At fourteen? He's clearly better than you, Marcus. Just think yourself lucky the boss wants him to work alongside you. He could just get rid of you right now. After all, it's probably your presence stopping Hackenbacker from joining us."

"Sir Reuben wouldn't sack me, Sahara. I know too much."

"There's more than one way to get rid of an unwanted employee," she smiled, enjoying the nervous swallow which greeted her words.

"I-" Marcus's response was cut off as the door was flung open and a young man burst through, clearly agitated.

"What's wrong, Freddy?" Sahara asked.

"He's lost it. Seriously. I swear, the man's finally gone crazy."

"What did he say?"

Freddy McAllister glanced at the computer screen for a moment before shaking his head and turning away. "Forget that guy for now. We've got some serious work to do. I need everyone focussed on this."

"On what?"

He laughed. "You're going to love this one. Uncle Reuben's decided he wants to copy some of International Rescue's technology. He wants us to steal a Thunderbird."


	2. Chapter 2

_Thank you all so much for the response to the first chapter. Hi Whirlgirl ('The Great Thunderbird Heist' would have been a wonderful title, wish I'd thought of that one!) and Sunny - thanks for reviewing, I really value your comments._

Chapter Two

_Six weeks later_

There had been no ominous portents before that Wednesday in early June. No solitary magpie had landed on the roof of the villa, no one had broken a mirror or spilled any salt, no black cats had found their way into a Thunderbird. Even so, Jeff reflected - once things had settled down enough for him to be able to think rationally – he should have been expecting something to go wrong. He and his boys had always been magnets for disaster and the formation of International Rescue had simply ensured that the potential for chaos was even greater than it had been before. Jeff had hoped that after the suffering the family had endured at the hands of his niece, the Fates would have decided that enough was enough and sent them a long spell of good fortune for a change. But apparently it wasn't to be.

Not that he had any inkling of the drama to come when he sat down at his desk to look over the latest figures from Tracy Industries. After a shaky couple of months in which sales and share prices had slumped, things were finally looking up. The company was simply too good to suffer more than a temporary blip in its fortunes and its new jet engine looked set to become the industry standard. Business was booming once more.

Jeff was delighted. His credibility had been severely damaged following the revelations about his illness and his manipulation at the hands of his niece and a business rival. He didn't really care about his personal reputation – though he couldn't deny he'd been hurt by the way he'd been portrayed in some parts of the press - but he did care about the impact the scandal had had on his business. If nothing else, he needed the profits from TI to keep International Rescue going. It had been a worrying time but both organisations seemed solid now, much to Jeff's relief.

He looked up and smiled as Virgil wandered into the lounge, assuring his son that he wouldn't be disturbed by the sound of the piano before settling back down to work. It wasn't long, however, before he found himself pushing the spreadsheets aside in order to listen to Virgil's latest composition. It was good to hear him playing something cheerful, he thought. For a while all he'd produced were melancholy dirges which had just depressed everyone even more. Not that Jeff had said anything of course – he'd already hurt his middle son enough with too many spiteful outbursts. They still weren't completely relaxed around each other – months later and Jeff was still watching every word he said, terrified that a careless comment might alienate his son once more.

But they were getting there. All of them. Gordon and Alan had been quick to forgive but Jeff knew he still had a way to go with Scott and John, both sons still a little wary of him. Not that he could blame them. He'd been ridiculously authoritarian at first; desperate to show that he was back to normal and capable of taking charge once again. His eldest sons hadn't appreciated being told what to do, especially after they'd lost so much faith in their father's judgement. But things were definitely improving. There hadn't been an argument for weeks now and Scott no longer needed an hour in the gym after each debriefing in order to work out his frustrations on the punch-bag.

* * *

><p>The alert came in just before lunch. John was talking to Alan at the time. His youngest brother was doing his best to persuade him to stay up on Five for an extra couple of days so that he could take Tin-Tin to Monaco for the grand-prix weekend. But John was having none of it. Alan already owed him twelve days and there had been no sign of him making good on the debt. Losing patience as his brother started to beg, he was about to cut him off when the familiar call for help came through the speaker.<p>

"International Rescue? Come in, please. We need help... Is anyone listening? Calling International Rescue..."

The words were barely audible and John almost lost the man for a moment, cutting Alan off mid-flow as he struggled to hear over his brother's continued pleading.

"This is International Rescue," he responded once he'd managed to boost the signal. "Can you hear me? What's the problem?"

In between sharp bursts of static the story unfolded. Five men were currently floating in an escape pod in the middle of the Atlantic Ocean, having been forced to flee from their undersea research station when an exploding generator had blown a hole in the outer hull. Three crew members had been left behind, with a limited air supply and no means of communication – if they were still alive, of course.

"We were working on a means of blocking underwater communications," the man explained. "The jammers are still operating. We couldn't get a signal to you until we were nearly at the surface. There's no way to get in touch with anyone down there. You have to help them."

At first John had been hopeful that the powerful transmitters on Thunderbird Five would penetrate through to the research station, but after five minutes of fruitless effort he had to admit defeat.

"Hold on a moment," he told the men in the escape pod. He switched to the link with the island, quickly apprising his father of the situation. Within minutes Gordon had been summoned to give his views on the matter.

"It'll be easy enough to get Four down to the base," he told them. "If anyone's alive down there I should be able to get to them."

"You won't be able to communicate with us, though," John reminded him. "There's no way any radio signals are going to penetrate the jammer they've set up. Believe me, I've tried."

"Surely the fact that it's still working means there's no one left alive down there?" Alan had joined them in the lounge. "I mean, they'd have turned it off if they could, wouldn't they? Then they'd have been able to call for help."

"Not necessarily," Gordon told him. "Those undersea stations go into lockdown if there's a breach in the hull. Only the damaged section will be completely flooded. John says the missing men were in the crew quarters when the explosion happened so they're more than likely still alive."

No one wanted to think about what it must be like to be trapped hundreds of metres below the surface of the ocean, cold, wet and terrified, waiting for the last remaining bit of air to run out whilst praying that someone would come to their aid.

"Are you sure you want to do this, Gordon?" Jeff asked. "I don't like sending you out without any radio link. If anything went wrong you'd have no way of letting us know."

"I'm sure, Dad. Let's face it, every mission with Four is a risk," Gordon said cheerfully. "It's not like anyone can pull me out if it goes wrong, is it? Don't worry, I'll be fine."

Jeff's already grave expression darkened. Four was his least favourite 'bird – he belonged in the sky not underwater and on the rare occasions he spent time in the tiny submarine he always felt claustrophobic and ever so slightly vulnerable. But Gordon was the expert here and Jeff knew he had to trust him when he decreed the mission viable. He shook himself – too often these days he found himself thinking of his boys' safety before that of those in need of rescue. Another sign of the way his recent experiences had shaken him. Even so, in spite of his misgivings, he gave the go-ahead for the rescue to begin.

"Okay, son, if you're sure. John, tell them we're on our way."

"FAB. What do you want to do about the escape pod?"

"How long will it take for the nearest ship to get to them?"

"A few hours. They're in the middle of nowhere."

"Okay, tell them they'll have to hold on until we've completed the other rescue." Jeff turned away from John's portrait as Scott and Virgil appeared in the lounge. After a quick rundown of the situation he gave his orders.

"This is what we do. Gordon, you take Alan down with you. It's going to be a tight squeeze in Four with three rescue victims, but I'd rather you had back-up just in case you get into trouble. The lack of radio contact worries me enough as it is."

"FAB!" Alan couldn't hide his delight. He didn't get the chance to go out in Four very often.

Jeff shook his head, wondering why anyone would welcome the opportunity to dive to the bottom of the ocean in a thirty-foot long submarine. "Once Thunderbird Four is back on the surface you can pick up the other men from the escape pod and bring them on board. Off you go boys. Good luck."

Within minutes Thunderbirds One and Two were on their way and the usual good-natured bantering about One's superior speed versus Two's usefulness was soon underway.

"Why do we need One anyway?" Alan asked, never one to pass up the chance of winding up a brother. "All Scott's going to do is hover over the water and wait for us to resurface. At least Two's necessary on this one. You should have hitched a ride with us, Scotty."

"We _always_ take One." Scott sounded somewhat scandalised by the suggestion that his beloved 'bird would be superfluous to this mission. As his other brothers chipped in to agree with Alan he tuned out. There might be nothing he could do other than watch and wait on this rescue, but he'd rather do that in his own 'bird than Virgil's. Flying calmed him and he knew there was no way his brother would let him near the controls of Two, however much in need of some stress-relief he might be. Plus it would mean being stuck with his youngest brothers for the journey there and back and that was far too much for him to be expected to endure.

Scott turned his mind to the upcoming rescue. Like his father, he rated Four as his least favourite amongst the 'birds. Gordon was right, he thought – if there ever was a problem there would be nothing anyone could do to help. The thought made him shudder. He didn't like this situation one little bit – being able to stay in radio contact usually provided him with some reassurance that his brother was okay. He wouldn't have that luxury this time – and two brothers would be at risk.

He was about to make some comment to Gordon, but John came through at that moment, sounding concerned.

"Guys, I've got an update from the escape pod. It must have been damaged in the blast. Apparently they're taking on water. At the rate they're sinking they don't think they'll last until we retrieve the others."

"No problem," Scott said. "Virg, you can winch them up and get them to shore while Four is down at the station. They'll have to stay in the escape pod, though, however uncomfortable it is for them. We can't have them wandering around Two unsupervised. Let them know, John."

John did so and all seemed well, but when Virgil joined Scott at the rescue site a few minutes later and dropped the pod containing Gordon and Alan in Four, another problem arose.

"Hang on, guys," John called, just as Gordon was preparing for launch. "Change of plan. It looks like one of the men in the escape pod is in trouble. Possible heart attack. He needs help now."

"Base?" Scott asked, more out of courtesy than because he needed his father's advice. There was only one thing to do, however unhappy that course of action made him. Sure enough his father had the same thoughts.

"Gordon, get over there and tow them into pod four. Alan, you'll have to stay with them. Do what you can to help this man. Virgil can pick up the pod and get over to the nearest hospital. You're going to be on your own with this one after all, Gordon. Are you alright with that?"

Gordon was perfectly happy. The depths of the ocean held no fear for him and he was used to being alone on a mission – though he usually had a familiar voice or two to keep him company. Alan however couldn't help being disappointed. Just when he had the chance for a bit of excitement and a rare chance to go out on an underwater rescue it was all going to be taken away from him. Still, there was a man in need of help and he'd never turn his back in a situation like this. Even so he couldn't help pointing out once again that Scott would have been a lot more useful had he come along in Two. From the way Scott snapped a rebuke he knew he'd touched a nerve. He'd raise the issue again in the debriefing though, even at the risk of infuriating his field commander.

Within minutes Virgil had retrieved pod four and was heading for shore. The men had insisted they be taken to their company's on-shore headquarters which apparently had top of the range medical facilities. Since it was slightly nearer than the closest hospital Virgil had willingly agreed. As his brother flew, Alan helped the rescue victims clamber out of their escape pod, watching as the sick man was carried out by two of his crewmates. But as he prepared to examine him he was waved away by one of the men.

"I'm a doctor," the man told him. "I'll take care of him."

Alan cast a glance over the man. He was clearly alive and seemed stable enough so he smiled his acknowledgement to the doctor, handing him the first aid kit and offering his assistance should it be needed. But his attention was soon distracted by the three other men, all of whom were wandering off in different directions, clearly fascinated by the technology they could see in the pod.

"Er, excuse me, guys," Alan called. "If you wouldn't mind coming back over here..." He wasn't too impressed – or surprised – when they ignored him. Raising his voice to get their attention he couldn't help wishing he was heading into a rescue with Gordon instead of babysitting a group of curious scientists. It was going to be a long flight.

At the rescue site Scott was finalising details with his second-youngest brother. "How long do you think this is likely to take, Gordon?"

"Hard to say," his brother replied. "If it's straightforward then I could be back in about thirty minutes. If it's not... an hour maybe. I don't know. I've got four hours' worth of oxygen so there's no rush. "

Scott considered this. Thirty minutes with no radio contact he could just about cope with. An hour was going to seem like an age. Four hours was going to kill him.

"I want you back in an hour," he told his brother. "If you get down there and it looks like it's going to be difficult you come back up and let me know. No getting carried away and forgetting the time."

"Wouldn't dare," Gordon said cheerfully. Really, he wouldn't. The nagging and recriminations from an older brother and a father – not to mention a grandmother - just wouldn't be worth it.

"Take care then," Scott told him, watching as the little sub disappeared beneath the waves. He kept up an aimless chatter with his brother, more for his comfort than Gordon's, frowning as the signal grew fainter and fainter until finally there was nothing. John fared a little better with his equipment on Five, but a minute later he too had lost contact with Thunderbird Four.

"So," John said, sitting back and staring at his older brother through the vid-screen, "I guess we just have to wait."

"Guess so." Scott hated waiting. To pass the time he put in a call to Virgil in Two, then, satisfied that all was well, disconnected the autopilot, took One out of hover mode and took the opportunity to test out the new thrusters he'd installed a few days before, indulging in a few aeronautical manoeuvres which wouldn't have gone down at all well if his father had caught him performing them when he was supposed to be concentrating on a mission. But it passed the time and Scott felt a lot less stressed when he returned to wait at the rescue site some fifteen minutes later.

With all his thoughts focused on Gordon, the emergency alert from Virgil was the last thing he was expecting.


	3. Chapter 3

_A big thank you to everyone who reviewed, especially those I can't thank in person. It really means a lot. Bee_

Chapter Three

Virgil had only just finished informing John that all was well on Thunderbird Two when Alan called him, annoyance plainly evident in his voice.

"What's wrong, Al?"

"These guys are driving me crazy down here, Virg. They're taking a real interest in all the gear we've got stashed in here and they're ignoring me when I tell them to leave it alone. As soon as I get one sitting down another one goes wandering off."

It was far from unusual for rescue victims to be fascinated by the interior of whichever Thunderbird craft they found themselves in, but generally the Tracys were able to corral their guests somewhere where they wouldn't be able to gain access to any IR secrets. Pod Four was different in that it rarely carried passengers. If it did, Gordon would usually be there to keep them in check. As easy-going as he was, he also possessed a strong physical presence and few were willing to risk aggravating him. Alan didn't have the same advantage, plus he was a good ten to twenty years younger than the men they'd rescued. Not wanting to undermine what was left of his youngest brother's authority, but concerned for International Rescue's security, Virgil knew he'd have to act. Flicking the internal communications switch, his voice echoed around the pod as he reiterated his brother's instructions to sit still and behave. Threatening to set down and kick everyone off except for the man in need of medical treatment, Virgil soon had the men under control.

"Thanks," Alan told him, but he couldn't help the note of irritation that crept into his voice at the fact that he'd had to ask his older brother to take charge of the situation.

"No worries, Al. Let me know if they step out of line again."

"Sorry kid," one of the men commented as Alan turned back to the group of men who were once more sitting beside their escape pod. Alan smiled tightly and said nothing. This flight couldn't end soon enough as far as he was concerned. He turned his attention to wondering how he could give himself more authority. Oh, it was fine on rescues when people were in fear of their lives and so would listen to every word he said, but in situations like this he definitely needed a little more gravitas. He kept a wary eye on the men all the while. When Virgil announced they were approaching their destination Alan was delighted. He guessed the men felt the same since they began to grin at each other, whispering something he couldn't catch.

Virgil approached the coordinates the scientists had given him. But instead of the sprawling complex he'd been led to believe he was bringing the men to, there were just a few small buildings. Something clearly wasn't right. He was about to call down to the pod when a voice came through on the radio.

"International Rescue? Welcome to Bryson-Chard Marine Technology. You're cleared to land."

"Acknowledged." Then, because he hadn't spoken to a girl for quite some time and this one had a nice voice, he gave up on the formality. "For a minute I wasn't sure I'd got the right place. I was expecting something bigger."

"Most of our facility is underground," the woman informed him, clearly happy to chat. "Don't worry, you're in the right place. We've got a medical team ready and waiting. There's a recovery vehicle on standby too if you need it to get our escape pod out."

Virgil was happy to accept some help in getting the vessel out of the pod. It had no wheels and, this being pod four, there was nothing in there which would have been able to move it. He'd been resigned to having to set up a winch to drag it out, but a purpose-built recovery vehicle would be a lot quicker and easier. He'd soon be heading back to the ocean ready to pick up Gordon.

Activating his watch he warned Alan to prepare for landing. "I'll be down in a few minutes," he told him.

"No need, Virg," Alan told him. "I can handle it. You just be ready to get us underway again."

Virgil considered this for a moment before giving his assent, appreciating that Alan's pride had taken a knock earlier on. He concentrated on bringing Thunderbird Two down in the spot he'd been assigned. Once she was settled he raised the body of the 'bird, leaving the pod on the ground.

"All clear, Al," he announced and hit the switch to release the pod door.

As the pod's ramp slowly lowered, Alan marshalled all the men with the exception of the doctor and his patient towards the entrance. When the ramp was fully extended he ushered them out, not surprised when none of them bothered to say 'thank you'. When all of them were out he waved the waiting medical team in, along with the recovery vehicle.

"How's it going?" Virgil couldn't help checking.

"It's all under control," Alan told him, just a little sharply. "Give us five minutes or so to get this thing out of the pod then we're good to go."

"FAB."

As the recovery truck slowly backed into the pod, the driver positioning it carefully in order to winch the escape pod on board, Alan led the medical team over to the ailing crewman.

The first indication he had that things weren't as they seemed came when the sick man jumped to his feet with a cheerful greeting to the new arrivals. As the men turned towards him and the doors of the truck opened to allow several more people to emerge, Alan knew he was in trouble. Backing away, painfully aware that there was only one way out of the pod but that at least five men stood between him and it, he raised his watch to inform Virgil that they had a problem.

He only got half his sentence out before he was tackled to the ground by one of the men, but that, along with the grunt of pain as the breath was knocked out of him was enough to tell Virgil that something had gone badly wrong.

"_Alan?"_

When there was no response from his brother, Virgil slammed his hand down on the button which would raise the pod door. As it started to rise he sent out a call to Scott, John and Base, informing them that Alan was in trouble.

"I'm on my way," Scott informed him. "ETA ten minutes."

"Is the pod secure?" his father wanted to know.

"Yes. The ramp's up. But Alan's stuck inside the pod with those men. Dad, I think he might be hurt. I'm going to lower Two and-"

"Negative, Virgil. Do you hear me? You stay where you are. If these people are after Thunderbird Two you'll only make it easier for them to take her."

Virgil could see the logic and he certainly didn't want anyone getting their hands on Thunderbird Two – the thought of those men loose in one of her pods was bad enough – but he'd sacrifice her for his brother if he had to.

"But Alan-"

"Isn't going anywhere," Scott told him, backing up his father but understanding completely how Virgil was feeling. "Just hold on, Virg. As soon as I'm there we can go after him together. Less than eight minutes, now. I'm pushing One as hard as I can. Okay?"

"I guess so," Virgil muttered, although every instinct was screaming at him to get down there and save his brother.

"Are you in contact with the pod?" John asked. "I've tried to raise Alan but I can't get a response."

"I'm not getting anything from him either," Virgil told him. "I could put out a call on the intercom."

"Do it," Jeff said. "We need to know what these people want."

Virgil flipped a switch. "Thunderbird Two to pod. What's the situation down there?"

There was silence for a moment, then a voice Virgil didn't recognise replied.

"Open the door."

"Let me speak to my colleague."

There was another pause. Virgil could hear some muffled voices in the background, then Alan spoke, the tension in his voice clear.

"Sorry, Two. They overpowered me. There wasn't anything I could do."

"He's right," the first man said. "Your friend's outnumbered ten to one here. Unless you want him damaged I suggest you let us out."

"Don't do it, Two," Alan called out, earning a cuff across the head for his efforts. "They've stripped everything out of the pod and loaded it onto the truck. You can't let them take it all. I'll be okay."

"I wouldn't count on it," the man told Virgil, nodding to one of the other men who stepped up to Alan and made a dramatic show of slowly clenching his fist. "Every minute you delay in opening that door, your boy's going to get a little more damaged."

Alan thought he'd be more damaged by the word 'boy' than by anything the men could do to hurt him physically. It only took one blow to make him realise he was wrong.

"Dad, they're hitting him," Virgil said, somewhat unnecessarily since the conversation had been broadcast to the rest of IR.

"Hold tight, son," his father told him, though Virgil knew he really wanted to order him to rush to the rescue. "You have to wait for Scott."

"How much longer?"

"Six minutes," Scott announced. "How's it looking outside, Virg? Can I expect a welcoming committee?"

Virgil switched on the outboard cameras. "Two armed guards waiting by the entrance to the building. Nothing else as far as I can tell."

"Good. I'll take care of them then we'll handle the rest together."

"Anything else from the pod?" John asked.

Virgil bit back the urge to point out that if there had been John would have heard it along with everyone else. He suddenly appreciated how his brother felt whenever he was stuck up in Five and someone he cared about was in danger. The feeling of helplessness was unbearable. But John was always miles above the Earth's surface, genuinely unable to help. Virgil, however, was just a few metres away from his brother. Surely there was something he could do. Glancing at the guards again, he suddenly had an idea.

Down in the pod Alan picked himself up off the floor, spitting out blood along with a tooth – he wasn't at all happy about that one – and glaring defiantly at his captors.

"You'll never get Thunderbird Two," he told them.

"What makes you think we want it?" The man who'd spoken to Virgil barely sounded interested. He was too busy fiddling with Alan's watch, which he'd had his men remove prior to the beating. He didn't seem to be making much headway though, giving up and shoving it into his pocket, finally giving Alan his full attention.

Alan stared at the man in surprise. He'd assumed the whole operation was a ploy to hijack Two. "So is it _me_ you want? I won't tell you anything."

The man laughed. "No, kid. We don't want you either. Or your friend. We're only interested in your technology." He indicated the fully-laden escape pod which had been winched onto the bed of the truck.

"All set there?" he called.

"All secure. We're ready to go."

"Control just called in," someone shouted from inside the truck. "The other Thunderbird is on its way."

"Excellent. All according to plan."

Alan had been thinking furiously. If the emergency call had been a set-up and they didn't want Two...

"Thunderbird One? That's what you're after?" He made a futile effort to wrench himself free from the men who held him, earning himself another couple of hits.

His captor laughed. "Don't you worry about it. Just be a good boy and keep quiet. Now then, since your pilot doesn't seem to value your life enough to let us out we'll just have to create our own exit."

Nodding to the two men who held Alan, he turned away as they began to tie him up, gagging him for good measure then dragging him to the back of the pod and throwing him down. When Alan managed to sit himself up again he might have smiled if the gag hadn't made such a thing impossible. The men had taken some kind of blow torch out of the truck and were apparently preparing to cut through the wall of the pod. They'd have a job doing that, he thought. Thanks to Brains the pod was practically impregnable. Even IR's own cutting equipment would take several minutes to get through. His captors would soon realise they were well and truly trapped. He might be in for a few more uncomfortable moments, stuck in the middle as the men bartered his life for their freedom, but he trusted his family to get him out. He'd be fine. Unless Scott did something stupid like trading himself for Alan... Caught up in these unwelcome thoughts he barely registered the men as they began their clearly pointless attempt to cut their way through to freedom.

It came as something of a shock when the side of the pod began to melt away.

* * *

><p>Virgil would never admit to any faults where Thunderbird Two was concerned. Privately he might wish that there was a less elaborate means of getting into her from the lounge – one that didn't involve a dizzying rush of blood to the head or the danger of his spine snapping if the folding seat malfunctioned – or that she was just a little faster on occasion, but until now he'd never considered that she simply didn't have enough doors. Oh, it was fine when Two rested on the ground, but how was he supposed to get out now when the ship was high up in the air? Standing on tiptoe on his pilot's seat, he managed to grip the edge of the hole where the chute normally deposited him into the cockpit. Straining to lift himself plus the bag he'd slung round his neck, he eventually managed to pull himself up onto the roof of Two. Lying flat on top he edged forward, satisfying himself that the guards hadn't spotted him. As he watched, the pair nodded at each other then began walking towards the 'bird. Fearful that his escape had been discovered Virgil held his breath, then realised that they hadn't looked up. Whatever had caught their attention was at ground level.<p>

As quickly and quietly as he could, Virgil slid along the cockpit roof and down onto a wing. Pulling his bag towards him he pulled out a rifle which he'd already loaded with tranquiliser darts. They were intended for use on animals but he had no qualms about making an exception this time. They'd do the job as well as anything.

The first guard fell without a sound. His companion dropped down beside him, raising his gun and looking around frantically to try to spot their assailant. By the time it occurred to him to look up Virgil had taken aim and fired again. He too hit the ground.

Virgil sent out a call to Scott.

"How much longer?"

"Three minutes. Are the guards-"

"I've already dealt with them."

"What?" The question came in simultaneously from Scott, John and Jeff.

Virgil was about to explain when he heard something which horrified him. Leaning out over the wing he watched in disbelief as a huge piece of the pod's wall detached and hit the ground.

"They're out!"

"How?"

Virgil didn't know how. He didn't have time to wonder how these men had achieved the impossible. The recovery vehicle, complete with the escape pod which he knew was full of IR equipment, was emerging from the hole in the pod's wall.

"John, is Alan in that truck?" he asked.

There was a pause then John's anxious voice came in. "Yes. His signal's moving away from you."

"How much longer, Scott?" Virgil had already activated the remote signal to lower Two. Wishing there was something to hang on to, he lay spread-eagled across the wing praying he didn't slide off before Two reached the ground.

"One minute. I'm on my approach now. Can you- _Whoa!"_

"Scott?"

"I'm under attack! Two helicopters. They're firing at me."

"Be careful, Scott," Virgil warned him. "Whatever weapons those guys have got might well be enough to take out One. They've just cut a piece out of the pod's hull big enough to drive a truck through."

Jeff's whistle of disbelief was clearly audible. "Return fire, Scott! Deal with those helicopters and get back to Virgil and Alan as soon as you can."

"FAB. Talk to you in a moment, guys. I need to concentrate here."

Virgil watched as the truck approached the building. Whether there was someone inside waiting for them or whether they had some sort of remote control he didn't know, but a large door had slid open by the time the truck reached it and within moments the truck had disappeared. The door began to close and Virgil knew he'd never make it inside in time.

As Two settled with a gentle thud, Virgil slid over to the side of the wing, hanging by his hands in order to make the drop as short as possible. Even so it was still quite a distance and it took him a moment to recover after the breath was knocked out of him as he landed. Forcing himself to his feet he took after the truck, pausing beside one of the downed guards to snatch the security pass which hung around his neck. Moments later he'd used it to open a side door and was inside the building, intent on tracing his brother.

Inside the pod Alan could only continue to struggle with his bonds.


	4. Chapter 4

_Just a short chapter this time - will hopefully update again later this week._

Chapter Four

At first, Gordon couldn't help making the most of his moment of freedom, well away from the watchful eyes and ears of Scott, John and his father. Usually his every move was monitored and directed, often a frustrating experience for a man who'd once commanded his own crew in WASP. He relished the opportunity to be completely in control for once. He didn't even regret the fact that Alan wasn't with him. He knew his brother had been disappointed at being left behind, but Gordon didn't really think it would have bothered him for too long. Right now he was probably revelling in the fact that he had a captive audience hanging on his every word as he recounted tales of daring rescues – probably exaggerating his own role in them too, Gordon thought with a fond smile.

A few choruses of 'Yellow Submarine' in which one note in three was actually in the right key – or thereabouts - made up for the lack of any sound from the radio and kept Gordon entertained as Four slipped ever deeper beneath the ocean's surface. Not bad, he thought, deciding he'd treat Virgil to a repeat performance on the way home – it was always fun to torment his musical brother.

He grew more serious as he got closer to the underwater base, his instruments informing him that he was now over three thousand metres below the surface. If Alan had been with him he'd have had to reassure him that Four could easily cope with the immense pressure she was being subjected to right now. He knew that none of the rest of his family was completely at ease in Four, but the depths of the ocean held no fear for him. Just as well - his flippant remark to his father about the craft being impossible to rescue had only been half made in jest. Not that he had any real worries on that score. Four might have been the smallest of the 'birds – not a bird at all, really – but they'd been through a lot together and she'd never let him down.

The journey to the research station would take another five minutes, time enough to enjoy the ride and to check out whatever marine life was in the vicinity. At least, he would have done so had there been anything to see. But there was nothing – highly unusual in an area of the Atlantic which was normally teeming with life. It was the first indication that something wasn't right...

Then there was the lack of illumination from the underwater base. Normally such structures were visible for hundreds of metres, bright lights acting as a beacon to approaching craft. But there wasn't any sign of the research station, and this, combined with the continued absence of any kind of sea creature, unsettled him even more. He suddenly had a real sense of isolation, unlike anything he'd ever felt before. He would have given anything to hear someone's voice right about now, but of course there was nothing. Well, not quite 'nothing' – the closer he got to the research station, the more he became aware of a faint, high-pitched whine which was starting to make his ears hurt. Something to do with the communications experiments the station had been running, he surmised. Probably what had driven the sea life away, too. How the men on the station coped he didn't know – presumably they got used to it after a while. He hoped he wouldn't be down there long enough to find out.

He rubbed his eyes, feeling a headache beginning to build up. A sudden burst of static from the open radio link made him jump and he mentally crossed his fingers, hoping that the jammer had finally failed. But when he tried to make contact with the world above him there was nothing, although the annoying noise grew louder. Another deafening blast of static led him to reach over to turn the radio off and the whine cut out, much to his relief. Then there really was nothing but silence.

Checking his coordinates he saw that he should have reached his destination, but there was still no sign of the base. There was no reason to suspect anything sinister was going on, he told himself. The generators had probably been damaged in the explosion, cutting out the lights. He just hoped the oxygen supply was holding out, otherwise he'd be collecting bodies rather than survivors. That thought didn't do anything to improve his state of mind. Now the only tune running through his head was a hymn which had been played at a funeral he'd attended recently – an old WASP crewmate, killed in a submarine accident not fifty miles from this very spot. All of a sudden he wanted nothing more than to be on the surface where there was light and life - and a brother or two to laugh at him for getting worked up over nothing.

Wondering where all his natural optimism had got to, he forced himself to get a grip, willing himself to believe that the mission was going to be a success. The men he'd rescued earlier had assured him that the trapped men had plenty of survival equipment to keep them going - as long as they'd had time to reach it. He'd just have to hope they had.

Finally he spotted the base. As he'd feared, it was dark, just the faint green glow of the emergency lighting visible through the various windows and portholes. Automatically he reached for his watch to inform Scott he'd reached his destination. But when he switched it on there was another burst of static and the metal grew suddenly hot. The whine came through again, painfully loudly this time, and Gordon scrabbled desperately at the off button. Almost tearing the watch off his wrist, he flung it across Four's cabin, wincing at the burn left behind.

Anxious as he was to reach the trapped men, he decided to play it safe and take a quick look at the base, just to assess the damage. As he'd expected, there was a gaping hole in the outer shell and that section of the base was clearly flooded. But the rest of the structure looked intact and Gordon's mood lightened a little as he decided that there could well be survivors so long as the internal airlocks had functioned as they should have and locked down when the alarm was raised.

Carefully he manoeuvred Four towards the airlock. He'd not seen one like this before – it was far bigger than any other he'd come across, although the actual docking point looked fairly standard. At least he'd have no trouble getting out of Four and into the base. He hoped he'd have the chance to talk to the scientists and find out a bit more about their work on the journey back to the surface. Between the unusual airlock and the highly effective jammers, it seemed as though this company had some pretty interesting technology at its disposal.

There was a soft 'clunk' as Four docked. Slipping from his seat Gordon got into his wetsuit, just in case, then checked his oxygen supply. Four hours' worth of air, just as he'd told Scott. He didn't think he'd need anything like that long, though. Thirty minutes should do it – he'd be back on the surface within Scott's deadline. Assuming he didn't have to deal with anything unexpected of course. Gordon couldn't help a small smile at the thought – there was _always_ something unexpected when a Tracy was involved.

A green light flickered on, informing him that it was safe to open Four's hatch. He did so, then stepped into the long corridor which linked the outer door to the main part of the base. There was plenty of air, which gave him hope that the men he sought were alive, but it smelt and tasted stale and he knew there was a problem with the oxygen supply. Taking a breath of clean air from his own tank, he opened the inner door and stepped through into the research station.

As soon as he entered the base he knew he was too late to save anyone. He couldn't say why he was so certain – wild flights of fancy like this weren't his usual thing - but he just knew that he was the only living person there. Gordon tried to pull himself together. This was ridiculous. It was the silence that was getting to him, he told himself. He was a gregarious soul and going this long without chatting to someone was bound to unsettle him. That had to be it. But the thought didn't do a lot to reassure him and he had to force himself to move forward, still unable to shake the feeling that something was very wrong. It wasn't just the lack of communication with any of his family that was bothering him, he decided; it was the lack of any kind of noise. Alarms should have been blaring, distorted electronic voices announcing that there was an emergency and advising on appropriate action. But apart from the occasional creak and groan of stressed metal the place was silent - and _that_ sound certainly didn't make Gordon feel any more at ease.

The fact that the corridor he found himself in was freezing cold didn't help, nor did the fact that the air was just as thin and stale as it had been in the airlock. Proper lighting might have made him feel better too – not the eerie green glow of the emergency lights which didn't quite reach the furthest corners where anything might be lurking. Despite feeling as though he'd walked into a tomb, he couldn't shake the feeling that he was being watched. That did it. Every instinct screamed at him to run back to the safety of Four and blast up to the surface as quickly as he could, but he forced himself to get a grip and keep moving.

It took him nearly ten minutes to get through all the internal doors to the crew quarters. He'd been glad to make it that far – five minutes earlier there had been a sudden ominous rumble followed by a shudder as if some part of the structure was giving way. He'd held his breath for a while – he was relying completely on his own oxygen supply now since the air on the station was just too unpleasant to breathe – but the sound had gradually died away and there had been no more warning signs, so he'd quickened his pace, finding himself panting with the effort as he opened the final door.

All his efforts to calm himself and banish his fears hadn't really worked, so it came as no real surprise when he found the crew quarters empty. Not just lacking in rescue victims though, as he realised once he had a good look round with the aid of his flashlight. The relief he'd felt at the lack of bodies was soon lost as he began to take in the implications of what he was seeing. The room was completely bare – no bedding on the steel bunks, no clothing or personal possessions scattered around. No one had lived here in a very long time...

He'd walked into a trap.

Wishing he'd trusted his initial instincts and headed back the moment he'd realised something wasn't right, Gordon turned and made his way back to the outer airlock as quickly as he could. He'd suddenly thought of another explanation for the noise he'd heard a few minutes earlier, though he tried to tell himself he was once again being ridiculous. It took him several long, agonising minutes but he finally reached his destination, only to find that his darkest fears had been realised.

Thunderbird Four was gone.


	5. Chapter 5

_Mid-week update as promised. I forgot to say thanks to Loopstagirl for helping me out on the last chapter! Also, a big thank you to everyone who's given me some feedback on this. Bee_

Chapter Five

Gordon hadn't been entirely wrong when he'd had the feeling he was being watched. A series of hidden cameras, linked by old-fashioned cables due to the jammers, had been tracking his progress. Once his watchers determined he was far enough away from Thunderbird Four to be unable to do anything to stop them, they'd made their move. By the time Gordon returned to the main airlock their work was done, the cameras were dead and Gordon really was all alone.

It was just as well there was nothing to record his reaction when he reached the airlock door. He'd tried to convince himself that even if someone had managed to get onto Four – and he didn't see how they could have since he'd followed protocol and locked her down before entering the base – there would have been no way anyone could have started her up, let alone piloted her away. But when he reached the airlock he realised that no one would have needed to activate the engines – or even to get inside her. The whole airlock was gone. He'd wondered about it at the time and now it became clear why these people had built such a large structure. Clearly it hadn't just been a new type of airlock, it had been some kind of camouflaged propulsion unit designed to detach from the station and steer Four towards whoever wanted her. Who knew what they'd do to her? He hated to think of them tearing her apart to discover her secrets.

Gordon let himself drop down to the floor, his whole body shaking in shock and disbelief. What was he going to tell his father? He'd been on the receiving end of so many lectures for losing things as a boy – toys, bicycles, schoolbooks... He'd even lost the family dog once, and that time it hadn't just been his father who'd turned the full force of his wrath on him. All his brothers had made their feelings quite clear about that one - Alan hadn't spoken to him for three whole days even though the puppy had eventually found his own way home after just a few hours. The only thing he'd never lost was any part of his swimming kit. He'd certainly made up for that now... What his father would do was beyond him – he couldn't exactly take Gordon's allowance away until he'd paid for a replacement as he'd done years ago. Gordon didn't even want to think about how much a new sub would cost. Not that he wanted another one – he just wanted Thunderbird Four back.

It took a while for the realisation to dawn that there was no guarantee he'd ever be in a position to explain things to his father. With Four's disappearance, his only means of escape from the damaged base was gone. Forcing himself to stop worrying about the sub, he turned his attention to his own fate. He had less than three and a half hours' of oxygen left and no way of alerting anyone to his predicament.

He wondered how long it would take his brothers to work out that there was a problem. Sure, Scott would start to get worried when he wasn't back when his allotted time had run out. But he'd understand that things like this could take a little longer than anticipated – and it wasn't as if Gordon had a radio to let him know he'd been delayed. He'd fret for a while longer, gradually getting more and more anxious, but he wouldn't really start to panic until Gordon was at least a full hour overdue. That would leave him with two hours' worth of oxygen. Time for the alarm to be raised and for help to arrive. But from where? WASP maybe? But there wasn't a sub anywhere near, thanks to a battle simulation being run a hundred miles away. His enemies - whoever they were - had picked their moment well, he thought. No, WASP wouldn't be able to get there in time to help. He'd have to rely on his brothers, but what could they actually do?

The escape pod! Once they realised he was in trouble they'd surely use that to get to him. Gordon felt hopeful for all of ten seconds before remembering that the vessel had been leaking. Even if Virgil could patch it up he wasn't sure any emergency fix could hold up under the intense pressure the pod would have to tolerate. He didn't think that would stop someone from trying to reach him, but he'd rather they didn't if all it was going to mean was that a second brother lost his life that day.

Gordon would have given anything to hear John's voice – anyone's voice - right now. But perhaps he could do something about that. Maybe there was some way to reach the jammers and turn them off. At least if he could restore communications he might be able to start a rescue attempt a little earlier, giving himself a better chance of survival. If nothing else, at least he'd have some company as his life slipped away...

Moving around the base would use up his oxygen supply more quickly, but anything was better than sitting there slowly going insane with fear and worry. He got to his feet with a final furious glance back at the airlock. Then, checking his position on the map affixed to one of the internal doors, he started to move, this time heading away from the crew quarters. As he slowly made his way through the cold, dark corridors towards the laboratories where he assumed the jammers would be located – if they were anywhere near the generators they'd be under water and he'd have no chance of reaching them - he couldn't help remembering his earlier feeling that he'd stepped into a tomb. All he could do now was hope it wasn't going to be his. No, he told himself, fighting back the panic which was threatening to completely overwhelm him. Scott, Virgil, Alan – they'd surely be on their way to save him. They wouldn't let him die down here.

He had no way of knowing that right now he was the last thing on his brothers' minds.

* * *

><p>Scott couldn't help wondering how stupid his opponents actually were as he sent Thunderbird One hurtling straight up into the air. Helicopters against a machine like his? They didn't stand a chance. Normally he wouldn't even have bothered firing on them, preferring to simply outrun them, but they were stopping him getting to his brothers. Anything could have happened to Alan by now and Virgil clearly wasn't staying put as he'd been told to. Scott needed to be on the ground right now. Even so, as he dived behind the first helicopter, he wished there was another way. Okay, so they'd fired first, but he didn't want anyone to die today, not even an enemy. The fact that he had no idea who these people were was doubly frustrating.<p>

He manoeuvred himself into position and aimed for some non-vital part of the craft, hoping to disable it enough to allow the pilots to eject safely. He'd prefer to take them alive and have the opportunity to question them. As he pressed the button which sent a missile racing towards the helicopter he wondered again how on earth anyone could have expected it to outmanoeuvre a ship like One. Compared to his 'bird, helicopters were slow, ungainly, and completely hopeless in a combat situation.

Or maybe not...

Quite how the pilot had managed it Scott didn't know, but suddenly the craft pulled sharply to the side, allowing the missile to shoot past. A fraction of a second later the helicopter had swooped away from him and out of sight, but he didn't have time to wonder how it could have managed to evade him as his instruments screamed a warning that another missile was heading straight towards him.

* * *

><p>Alan was still doing his best to escape his bonds. He'd realised as soon as Two began to lower herself down over the damaged pod that Virgil was mounting a rescue attempt. Scott would be on his way too, he was sure, and the thought comforted him for a moment, despite the indignity he'd have to suffer in being discovered trussed up and helpless like this. But as the minutes ticked by and there was no still sign of Virgil, he had a sudden sinking feeling that his brother might be following the signal from his watch, failing to realise that Alan was still in the pod.<p>

Worried about what his brother's fate would be if he went after all the men by himself – Alan had counted at least ten of them - he desperately tried to find a way to get himself free. But he could see nothing which was likely to be of any use – the thieves had stripped the pod of everything that it was possible to remove. All that was left was an empty shell. Glancing over at the massive hole they'd cut through the side, an idea struck him and he began to roll himself towards it.

A few minutes later he'd managed to prop himself upright against the edge of the hole. He knew Brains was going to be mortified that someone had come up with a more effective means of cutting through reinforced metal than he had, but at least he could be satisfied that his own method made a cleaner cut. This hole was sharp and jagged – the metal torn, not smooth. It suited Alan's purpose though and, with a great deal of wincing and cursing every time the edge caught his skin instead of the ropes binding him, Alan began the task of freeing himself.

It took several minutes but he finally got his hands free. Then it was a simple matter to remove the bonds around his ankles. Rising slowly to his feet, trying to get the circulation going again and battling a pretty fierce case of pins and needles in his feet, he peered cautiously out of the hole. The area was deserted – and that worried him. He hadn't expected to see Virgil, but surely Scott should have landed by now. Wishing he had his wrist comm he debated heading up to Two's cockpit to contact Base, then decided he simply couldn't spare the time. Instead he slipped out of the pod and ran towards the nearest building, hoping that it was the one his brother had entered. Stopping to remove the pass key from around the neck of the second guard, Alan was soon inside the building, wondering where he was likely to find Virgil.

He'd actually started to go the wrong way. It was the distant sound of a gunshot which had him turning and racing to help a brother he suddenly knew was in big trouble.

* * *

><p>The truck hadn't gone far and Virgil had soon caught up with it. It came to a stop in a large empty bay where everything the men had taken out of Two's pod was quickly loaded into the three small, unmarked vans which were ready and waiting. There was no sign of Alan, however, and the men were too intent on their work to waste time in talking, so Virgil still had no idea what had happened to his brother. He watched as the first van began to move away with three of the men inside. As much as he wanted to stop them getting away with any IR technology, he knew that if he shot the tyres out he'd immediately give his presence away and, given that he was heavily outnumbered, he'd soon be overpowered. As much as it pained him he had to watch as the van disappeared.<p>

There was still no sign of Alan. Surely he'd be brought out at any moment. Wishing he could let the others know what was happening – Scott must have dealt with his attackers by now and, with John giving him directions from the signal Virgil's watch was sending out, would probably be joining him any second – but realising that he'd more than likely be overheard, he resigned himself to having to wait for his brother to arrive before he could mount a rescue.

"Any news?" one of the men called out to another man who'd appeared at the far end of the bay.

"Looking good. Those modified choppers are more than capable of keeping up with the rocket. The boss will be happy."

"So we're set to go?"

"That Thunderbird's too busy to worry about chasing us. We're in the clear."

That remark had Virgil worried. These people had equipment which could cut through the hull of a Thunderbird and were apparently able to hold off Scott. Who on Earth were they up against? He wondered what they were going to do with Two, and couldn't help sending out a silent 'thank you' when another man asked that very question.

"What about the one out there?"

"Forget it. We've got everything we want."

"The sub?"

"Home and dry – well, in a manner of speaking."

Virgil was horror-struck. Gordon! Had this all been a diversion, just a means to get hold of Thunderbird Four? Were_ three_ brothers in danger?

He knew now that there would be no help forthcoming from Scott. It was down to him to save Alan. Plus he really needed to capture one of the men and hope he talked. It would be their only chance to find out what had happened to Gordon.

The second van moved off and Virgil took advantage of the sound of the engines to slip closer to the truck. Only three men were left now. Much better odds, though far from ideal. He desperately wanted to make a move, but he forced himself to wait. Maybe the odds would improve further – surely the family's luck had to change eventually.

The doors of the last van slammed shut and two of the men got in and drove off. Virgil had to drop to the floor behind a pile of boxes to avoid being seen as it passed him. But now there was only one man left. Presumably he'd be taking Alan away in the car which was the only remaining vehicle apart from the truck. He watched as the man stepped back into the escape pod which had been left in place on the bed of the truck. As soon as he disappeared inside Virgil sprinted across, his gun drawn. Real bullets this time – the rifle which had fired the tranquiliser darts was still lying on the wing of Two. Virgil didn't care too much for guns, but when someone important to him was in danger he'd do whatever it took to save them.

Capturing the man was far easier than Virgil had expected. He was bending over to pick up a box and it was a simple matter to come up behind him, place the gun in his back and instruct him to keep still. He grunted in anger but, realising he was helpless, did as he was told. Virgil pulled the man's gun out of its holster and threw it across the pod. Then he looked around to see how Alan was doing. To his bewilderment there was no sign of his brother.

Turning his attention back to the man he shoved him up against the wall of the pod.

"Want to tell me what's going on?" he asked, making no effort to keep the fury out of his voice. He jabbed his gun hard into the man's ribs for good measure.

"No."

"Wrong answer," Virgil told him, grabbing his arm and preparing to swing him round to face him. But suddenly something hit him high up on his right shoulder, sending him slamming into the man. The sound of the shot and the inevitable agony which followed didn't register at first, but by the time he worked out why he was lying on the floor, the man beneath him had wriggled free and was on his feet.

"Do I have to do everything myself?"

The voice was that of the woman he'd spoken to earlier. He'd forgotten all about her in his rush to find Alan. He tried to push himself up, gasping as the pain flared again.

"Not everything," the man told her, grabbing Virgil's gun which had fallen from his hand and raising it high in the air. Before Virgil could turn to look at him he'd brought it down on his head. As Virgil crashed back to the floor the man grabbed the box he'd picked up earlier and followed the woman out of the pod.

"Look at the state of me," he complained, pulling at his overall, the back of which was spattered with Virgil's blood. "You could have hit me, you know. That bullet went straight through him. Missed me by inches."

"You know I'm too good a shot for that," she told him. "Come on, Freddy, let's get out of here." Within seconds they were in the car and heading out of the complex, already celebrating the success of their mission.


	6. Chapter 6

_A big thank you to everyone who reviewed, especially to those I couldn't reply to. Whirlgirl - all will be explained soon!_

Chapter Six

Jeff barely heard Kyrano trying to comfort him with the offer of coffee. Not that he needed any more adrenaline running through him right now. Every nerve was strung tight as he waited for news of his sons. The only one he was in contact with right now was John. Alan was in the hands of some unknown enemy and Virgil, according to the signal John was receiving from his watch, had done exactly what he'd been told _not _to do and set off in pursuit. Jeff had sent a silent signal to his watch but had received no response. He was forcing himself not to panic – Virgil was probably busy outwitting the bad guys and rescuing Alan. His son was more than capable of such a thing; after all, it wouldn't be the first time he'd had to do something of that nature. Any moment now he'd call in to let them know everything was under control – or at least, that was what Jeff was praying would happen.

Then there was Scott. He'd called in every now and again, initially furious that Virgil had failed to follow orders, then admitting that it was a relief to know that something was being done to help Alan, allowing him to focus on his own attackers. He'd been coldly determined to put the enemy aircraft out of action and Jeff, an Air Force man through and through, understood his feelings completely. Besides, if they could recover a downed helicopter or, better still, capture one of the pilots, they might have some chance of finding out who had planned all this.

As if that wasn't enough for a father to worry about, there was also Gordon, who'd been out of radio contact longer than anyone. Jeff understood now that the whole emergency had been staged for the sole reason of stealing IR technology. He could only hope that there had been no surprises in store for his fourth-born, that the whole thing had been engineered just to get hold of the two most celebrated Thunderbird machines. After all, what other reason could there be for this attack?

"Any news?" he asked John, despite knowing that if there had been his Space Monitor would already have let him have it.

"Nothing," John told him. "Virg has stopped moving. Oh, wait a minute..."

"What?"

"Alan's signal... Dad, it started to move away but then I lost it."

"Lost it?"

"Yeah. Just like I lost Gordon's signal. Looks like they've used the same technology here. They obviously don't want us tracking Alan."

"What about Virgil?"

"He's on the move. No, hang on a minute, he's stopped again. I could call him..."

"No, don't. If he's sneaking up on these people you don't want to distract him. We'll just have to wait for him to call in."

"Okay. Dad, I've been checking out that company."

"And?" Jeff expected to hear that they didn't exist.

"They're legit, but I don't think these people are anything to do with them. I think someone hacked into their systems to make this look as if it was on the level. It was enough to fool me when I did the routine check, but now I've dug a bit deeper I can see it was just a set-up. It looked as though those buildings and the research station did belong to them, but it turns out that they don't have any undersea bases. Plus their real headquarters are five hundred miles away from where Two landed. I'm sorry, Dad. If I'd checked them out more thoroughly we might have avoided all this."

"It's not your fault, John. Someone's been plotting against us for a long time by the looks of it. You did what you were supposed to do. If the company records were tampered with then maybe you can trace whoever hacked into them. You can go to work on that later. But tell me; is there any word on who does own those places?"

"Nothing that's going to be of any help. As far as I can tell the buildings belong to a leasing company. They've been empty for months and they're still listed as vacant. The research station is owned by a French company. It was mothballed two years ago when they lost government funding. Nobody's been down there since."

"Until now," Jeff said slowly.

"Dad, we don't know that Gordon's in trouble, only that he's out of contact. Thunderbird Two seems to be the target here. Or One, maybe. They might have just used the base as an excuse to get us to come out."

"So why the communications problem? It seems like a lot of trouble to go to if they didn't have something special in mind for Gordon. John, you're not picking up anything suspicious heading in your direction are you?"

John laughed before realising his father was deadly serious. "No, Dad. Five's fine, I'm fine." There was a pause for a moment. "Well, as fine as I can be when four of my brothers are in trouble and I can't do anything to help."

"I know. I feel the same way. Just keep monitoring the situation, John. There's got to be some news soon."

* * *

><p>Alan hadn't had any real problem finding Virgil. Just as he'd been forced to hesitate at the point where the corridor he'd been pelting down had split into two, he'd heard the roar of a car engine starting up and headed off in the direction of the sound. A couple of minutes later he'd found himself in a large bay which was apparently empty except for the truck which was parked in the middle, the escape pod still in place on top.<p>

After a cautious but fruitless search for Virgil around the perimeter of the bay where various boxes and old pieces of machinery were scattered, any of which could have obscured a body, Alan turned his attention to the truck. There had been no sign of any of the thieves and he guessed that they'd transferred their spoils into some other vehicle and were even now out on the road, believing themselves free and clear. He just hoped they'd taken Virgil with them, because if they hadn't, then he might be searching for a corpse and he didn't even want to think about that possibility.

Realising that if his brother _was_ still here, the only place he could possibly be was in the escape pod itself, Alan abandoned all caution and started to run, hoping no one was waiting with a gun as he crossed the open space, but too concerned about Virgil to spare more than a passing thought for his own safety.

His worst fears were realised when he reached the escape pod and saw Virgil lying inside. His own experience had warned him that these people didn't play by any rules but their own, but the fact that his brother had apparently been shot in the back – hit on the back of the head too if the matted blood in his hair was anything to go by - infuriated him beyond belief and he swore to get even with whoever had done this. Reaching out to tentatively examine his brother, he was more relieved than he could say when he found a pulse. But it was weaker than he'd have expected from what appeared to be a minor shoulder wound and he soon discovered the reason why. Turning his brother over, the amount of blood pouring from the exit wound told him that the bullet had done some damage after all.

It took a moment for his IR training to kick into action. Then, pressing one hand down hard on the wound, he reached for Virgil's watch with the other. He needed to alert the others and he needed help, fast. Where on Earth was Scott? He hadn't felt so desperate for his big brother's help in a long, long time.

"Scott, John, Base! Come in, someone."

"Alan!" Jeff had never been so pleased to hear his youngest son's voice. "Are you okay?"

"What's happened, Al?" John sounded more puzzled than relieved. "Why are you calling in on Virgil's wrist comm?"

"Where's Scott? I need him here right now. Virgil's been shot. Dad, there's blood everywhere. I can't stop it. I need to get him some help."

"Alan, slow down." Jeff tried to keep his own rising panic at bay, forcing himself to believe that Alan was exaggerating, as he was prone to do when it was a brother in trouble rather than an unknown member of the public. "Tell me exactly what the situation is."

"Hang on, let me get his watch off."

Suddenly the vid-link flickered on and Alan's pale, bruised face could be seen. Jeff couldn't help but wince at the sight of him. But his concern for Alan paled into insignificance when his son turned the watch round to show Virgil lying still and bloody on the floor of some kind of vehicle and he realised his son hadn't been overstating the situation after all.

"I can't stop the bleeding. I think the bullet caught an artery or something. He's got a bump on his head too – looks like they hit him. Dad, where's Scott? I need him here _now_!"

"He's a little tied up at the moment," John told him grimly. "One's under attack. "

"They got us on all sides didn't they?"Alan muttered. "Dad, I don't know what to do for the best here. I can't wait for Scott. I'm putting pressure on the wound, but Virg is still losing blood. There's nothing here I can use as a bandage..."

"Alan!" Jeff's voice was sharp now. "Calm down. It's okay, son, you're doing fine. Remember you've got all the medical equipment you need back on Two. You need to get Virgil back there, as fast as you can."

Alan forced himself to analyse the situation rationally. "I guess I could drive this truck back. I could be there in a few minutes."

"Is Virgil going to be okay for that length of time?"

Alan felt for his brother's pulse again. "I guess so," he said, but there was little confidence in his voice.

"Okay, then that's what you're going to have to do. Get him into Two's sickbay. Then you can help him properly. With a bit of luck Scott will be there by then." Jeff hoped he sounded convincing. He wanted to leap through the vid-screen and help his son - both his sons - himself, but as so often in these situations there was nothing he could do except stay calm and offer his advice. He just hoped Alan was right about Virgil being able to cope without help for a few minutes.

His father's attempt at reassurance must have worked because although Alan's woebegone face still didn't look like that of a seasoned International Rescue Operative to his watching father and brother, he at least managed a smile. Not that it made Jeff feel any better as he spotted his son's broken tooth.

"Alan-"

"I'm fine, Dad," Alan said. "I'm going to get Virg settled then I'll call you back."

"Be careful," John said. "There might be more of them ready to mount an attack on Two."

"I'll keep a look out," Alan promised before signing off. "Okay, Virg, let's get you out of here," he said, patting his brother on his uninjured shoulder as he took his other hand away from the bullet hole, swallowing hard as the blood flow increased. "Hold on, you're going to be okay. A few more minutes and you'll be safely back in Two."

He'd just turned to leave the escape pod when a slurred whisper made him turn back.

"They hurt my 'bird. Big hole..."

Alan was by his brother's side again in an instant. "Never mind that. Let's just worry about the hole in you, shall we?" He took his brother's hand and placed it over the wound. "Keep it tight, Virg. I'm going to drive us back. I won't be long."

He wasn't sure how effectively Virgil would manage to control the bleeding, but he felt a little more positive than he'd done just a minute ago. Jumping into the cab, he drove the truck back to Thunderbird Two as quickly as he could, hoping Virgil wasn't being bumped around too much, but mindful of the need for speed over comfort.

In the escape pod Virgil lay in a pain-filled daze. But it wasn't just his own situation which was bothering him. There was something important he should have told Alan, he knew there was, but the memory flickered just out of reach and, by the time Alan returned, he'd drifted into unconsciousness once again.

* * *

><p>Jeff turned worried eyes onto John. "We need to get Scott back there. Contact him, John."<p>

"You sure?"

"I'm sure."

John did as he was told, hoping he didn't break his oldest brother's concentration at a vital moment.

"Thunderbird Five to Thunderbird One. Come in, Scott."

There was silence for a moment and John found himself holding his breath, willing his brother to answer. Finally, just as John didn't think his nerves could stand any more, the reply came.

"Not a good time, John."

"We've got a problem, Scott."

"_You've_ got a problem?"

John couldn't help smiling at his brother's tone. But it didn't last long – and he suddenly wondered if the shock and stress had affected him too. Announcing what had happened to Virgil when his closest brother was fighting for his life probably wasn't the most sensible of moves.

"Scott, what's going on there?" It was Jeff's voice which came over the airwaves this time.

"Stalemate. I don't know what's been done to modify those choppers, Dad, but they can match One for manoeuvrability at this speed. They've managed to evade everything I've shot at them."

Now Scott just sounded offended, his pride clearly hurt that for once Thunderbird One wasn't the greatest thing in the skies.

"Scott, they're a diversion. They're just keeping you away from the landing site."

Scott's face immediately fell. "What's happened to Alan?"

Jeff drew in a deep breath. "It's not Alan."

"_Virgil?_"

"Get out of there, Scott. Then I'll-"

"Tell me. Now."

"They shot him, Scott."

John and Jeff expected an outpouring of anger and shock but there was just silence.

"Scott?"

"I heard you. How is he?"

"Alan's with him. He says he's bleeding pretty badly."

"He was in a bit of a state," John told him. "He needs you there now, Scott."

Scott aimed another missile at one of the helicopters which hung tantalisingly within reach for a moment before darting away again, still unscathed. Now more than ever he wanted to blast them out of the skies, this time as payback for what their colleagues had done to his brother.

"Disengage, Scott," his father told him. "Do you think they can keep pace with One at full speed?" Twenty minutes ago he'd have laughed at the mere idea of such a thing. Now he couldn't help wondering if it might be possible.

"We'll soon find out," Scott told him. He threw the throttle open, welcoming the G-forces which pushed him back into his seat. _This isn't over,_ he promised as the helicopters became specks in the distance. _Next time there'll be no running away._

"They can't keep up," he told his father. "ETA two minutes."

"Good work, Scott. I'll let Alan know."

"FAB."

By the time Scott touched down Alan was tending to Virgil in Two's sickbay, calmer now that he had the equipment he needed. But Scott didn't get the chance to see his brother. Just as he reached Thunderbird Two, pausing despite his worry for Virgil to take in the enormous hole the thieves had made in the side of the pod, Alan came over the comm, once again in a state of panic.

"Scott! Gordon's in trouble!"

"What? How do you know?"

"Virgil. He says he heard those men saying something about taking Thunderbird Four."

Jeff's voice chimed in. "What can he tell you, Alan?"

There was nothing except the low sound of Alan's voice murmuring something to Virgil for a moment, then he came back. "Not much. He's pretty out of it; he's not really making a lot of sense right now. He just keeps going on about them taking Four."

"Dad, there's not going to be a whole lot we can do if Gordon's in trouble." John's voice was quiet and he was clearly making an effort to keep himself calm. "I've got no way of knowing where he is. He's been down there nearly an hour now. Anything could have happened."

"I know. Scott, get airborne. Maybe there's something going on at the rescue site. All this must just have been a trick to get you away from the ocean so they could transport Four somehow."

"What about Virgil?" Scott was torn. He wasn't sure what he could do to help Gordon whereas there was plenty of practical help he could offer Alan. Then again, he knew that if he was stuck on Two he'd just be fretting over his missing brother.

"Alan, forget about bringing Virgil back to the island," Jeff decided. "Get him to the nearest hospital. Get yourself checked out too."

"FAB." Alan had to admit to a certain relief at the command. He'd stabilised his brother but the thought of a lengthy flight had worried him, even if Scott had been there to help. Plus it would have meant leaving Thunderbird One unattended and, even though Three was his baby, he had more of an affinity for the silver rocket than for any of the other Thunderbirds. He'd have worried about leaving her at the mercy of those men if they decided to return.

"You're going to have to leave the pod," Scott told him. "Are you okay with that?"

Alan rarely flew Two, let alone when she wasn't carrying a pod, but right now all he cared about was the twenty mile flight to the nearest hospital. He was more than able to cope with that. "I'll be fine. See you later, Scott. Gordon too."

"Sure," Scott told him, though both brothers knew how unlikely it was that the four of them would be reunited any time soon. They'd been bested at every turn by their enemy and it seemed they'd got exactly what they wanted. "Take care of Virg."

"I will."

Scott watched Two take off and disappear into the distance, confident that Alan seemed happy flying her. Then he turned his attention back to the damaged pod. "Dad, if they've got Four they might come back for the pod. I know Al said they'd taken everything out of her, but there's still a lot of stuff there that can't be moved."

"I know, son." There was silence for a moment. "Do you have any missiles left?"

"One."

"Do it then."

"FAB."

There was a lump in Scott's throat as he watched pod four's destruction. He just hoped Gordon and Thunderbird Four hadn't suffered the same fate.


	7. Chapter 7

_Sorry this one's late - work and Real Life have been keeping me busy. Back on track now though! Thank you for all the reviews, especially those of you I couldn't reply to._

Chapter Seven

Predictably enough, Scott insisted on carrying out a full search for Thunderbird Four. His father agreed, though he clearly held out little hope that his son would find anything, reminding him that if (and it was a _big_ 'if') Four had managed to evade her captors and make her way back up to the surface, John would have picked up her signal. Scott couldn't deny that the chances of success were anything other than slim, but, reminding his father of their enemy's ability to block transmissions, was adamant that he had to try, if only for his own peace of mind. There was nothing else for him to do anyway – Virgil was in surgery and Alan was taking care of things at the hospital – and he'd never been any good at sitting around waiting.

As Scott began to fly over the area where he'd last seen Gordon, John was calling in one of the many favours owed to International Rescue by WASP. It took some doing since their battle simulation had been months in the planning, but within half an hour a submarine had been diverted from the manoeuvres and was on its way to the research station. Not that John believed his brother would be found there, but they had to start the search somewhere and with a bit of luck WASP might find some leads. Maybe they'd spot a ship or another submarine along the way which would turn out to be hiding Gordon and Thunderbird Four. The captain was under orders to investigate any craft in the area. Loss of the sub's own communications would be an instant giveaway, but if the other craft had to shut down its jammers to avoid raising suspicion then a signal from Gordon's watch or from Four herself might finally be able to get through. There had to be a chance.

Like Scott, John refused to give up his search, though the lack of progress was frustrating him beyond belief. He'd finally realised that the one thing worse than knowing a brother was in trouble but being powerless to do anything more than direct someone else to the rescue, was knowing that a brother was in trouble but having no way of providing any help at all.

"Anything, John?" Jeff's Tracy's voice was devoid of any emotion, but John knew his father was far from calm.

"Nothing. Any word from the hospital?"

"You'd have heard if there was."

"Guess so."

"I-I'm s-sure V-Virgil will b-be alright, J-John. A-Alan s-said the d-doctor was quite p-positive about h-his chances."

"Brains?" John knew that his friend had been over on the other side of the island testing a new piece of digging equipment when the drama had begun. Clearly he'd now been briefed on the situation and, as his face appeared on the vid-screen, John wondered how he was feeling about it all. Brains always looked a little anxious so it was hard to tell from his expression, but his stutter was worse than usual, always a clear sign that the genius was unhappy.

"I-I need a-all the i-information you h-have, J-John."

"Coming up. Obviously we won't be able to get anything from pod four now, but I've alerted our local agent. She's putting a team together to search that complex. Alan says they wore gloves and they certainly seem to have been pretty thorough with their planning, but they might have left some evidence behind."

"Let's hope so," Jeff agreed. "I've been trying to get hold of Penny. We need our top agent working on this."

"Isn't she involved in some mission for the British secret service?"

"Apparently so. She's in contact with Parker so I've asked him to pass on a message."

"I'm sure once she hears what's happened to Virgil and Gordon she'll drop everything to help us."

"I-I agree," Brains said. "J-John, when A-Alan calls in n-next, l-let me know. I-I w-want to h-hear everything he c-can t-tell us a-about those p-people."

"Will do, Brains. Dad, does Grandma know?"

"Not yet. She and Tin-Tin aren't due back from their shopping trip for a couple more hours. I just hope there's some good news about Virgil or Gordon by then."

John added his own hopes for that one before signing off. He made a quick call to Scott who had nothing new to tell him, then went back to work on the task which he already knew was hopeless. Gordon and Four were gone.

* * *

><p>Alan had assumed that once Virgil had been rushed away into the Emergency Room safely in the care of a team of doctors, he'd be able to relax a little. Not that he'd be any less concerned about either of his brothers, but he'd done his job and got Virgil to the hospital and there was nothing else he could do for him now. It had helped that the doctors had praised his actions in keeping his brother alive and had been cautiously optimistic about Virgil's chances. But of course that wasn't the end of it. Alan had been forced to contend with a vast number of curious patients and hospital staff, all full of unwanted questions about IR in general and that day's adventures in particular.<p>

There was a long line of casualties waiting for attention and Alan had refused a nurse's offer to let him jump the queue. He'd checked out his wounds himself, deciding that with the exception of his tooth they were just superficial. It wasn't a pretty sight, but at least staring into a mirror gave him something to do as he lurked in the men's room where he'd gone to escape the attention of the local police. They'd turned up ten minutes after his arrival, clearly having been alerted by the hospital staff that a man had been admitted with a bullet wound. International Rescue or not, the police wanted information and ID and Alan couldn't give them anything.

He wished Scott was there – his brother dealt effortlessly with situations like this all the time. Once again Alan had felt young and inadequate. In the end he'd had to call John – the second time that day he'd had to seek help from an older brother – hating himself for distracting him from the search for Gordon but not seeing any alternative. John had come through for him though and within five minutes of Alan returning to the waiting room the police were gone, a call from a vastly superior officer ordering them to back off. Fair payment for rescuing the President a year or so ago, Alan thought, smiling a little as he watched the clearly irritated men heading off to their new duty – guarding Thunderbird Two - and settling down once again to a long period of waiting and worrying.

* * *

><p>Down on the research station, Gordon continued his efforts to help himself by restoring communications. After a long, tortuous journey along darkened corridors, unlocking numerous airlock doors, climbing through, then locking them behind him in an attempt to preserve whatever structural integrity the station retained, he finally neared the laboratories. He was even more on edge now, painfully aware that he was getting very near the damaged section of the base, every creak and groan of metal seeming louder and more threatening than the one before. His worst fears were realised as he began to encounter water, the level higher with every door he opened. It was up to his knees by the time he reached his destination. Despite the protection his wetsuit provided, Gordon had been feeling the cold even before he started wading through the freezing water and he found himself shivering violently by the time he arrived at the door to the labs.<p>

This time the water was up to his waist, the torrent which flooded out as he opened the door nearly knocking him over. He left the airlock door open this time, allowing the water to settle at a level just above his knees. Gordon had been trying not to get his hopes up during his long trek through the station but even so he couldn't help the feeling of despair which swept over him as he realised that both the labs were just as empty as the living quarters had been. Even so, he searched them from top to bottom but eventually he had to accept that there was nothing there to find. He was just as helpless as he'd been half an hour ago but with even less oxygen to keep him alive due to the exertions of the journey and the search.

Sitting himself down on a workbench, he drew his legs up out of the water, hoping it would warm him up a little. It didn't. He had a horrible feeling that he might succumb to hypothermia before he ran out of air and the thought didn't do anything to improve his state of mind. He decided he needed to keep moving, but he wasn't sure where he should go. He still hoped to turn off the jammer, but if the device was in the damaged part of the base he'd have no way of getting to it. Judging by the level of the water in the labs, he'd probably only manage to get into the next section of the base before reaching a point at which there was no going forward. Purely for want of anything else to do Gordon headed towards the next internal airlock, not expecting to have any luck but refusing to give up. He had to keep himself alive until his brothers could reach him, promising himself that he wouldn't inflict on them the horror of discovering his corpse.

Much to his surprise, however, he did find something in the next section. Just before an airlock door the corridor branched off to the left. The sign at the top was in French, as all the signs he'd seen recently had been, and although Gordon couldn't read the words he knew straight away what the accompanying symbol represented. For a moment he wondered if he was hallucinating. Surely it couldn't be? He actually closed his eyes and rubbed them vigorously for a moment before taking another look. The sign was still there.

Telling himself he was stupid to be feeling even the faintest spark of hope, Gordon followed the corridor for a short distance before coming up against another door. As with all the others there was a window at the top and he hesitated a moment before taking a look through it, warning himself that he was only going to be disappointed. There was no way these people would have left him an escape pod.

But they had.

Gordon couldn't believe that his luck had finally changed. It seemed to take an age to get the door open – his hands were shaking as he worked the lock, and not just from the cold - but finally he was inside, unable to hold back the cry of triumph as he realised he had a chance of surviving this after all. But his joy was short-lived. As he took a proper look around, he soon realised that things weren't exactly what they had seemed after all. Although his enemies had apparently decided to give him an opportunity to escape – assuming they'd even known the pod was there in the first place, though Gordon decided that since everything else had been so meticulously planned, this too must be part of it – they hadn't wanted to make it easy for him, clearly wanting to get well away with Four before the alarm could be raised. The pod had been disabled, several vital pieces of machinery in pieces on the floor. The radio had been removed completely and the oxygen tank appeared to be empty.

But Gordon wasn't going to let that stop him, not when he was so close to escape. He carried a selection of tools in a pouch on his belt and he wasted no time in pulling them out and setting to work. Though not an engineer like Virgil or Brains, Gordon was no slouch when it came to fixing machinery. Just as well, since repairing the control panel hadn't been easy. Everything seemed to be conspiring against him - screws had refused to turn, components had deliberately seemed to lose themselves... Every time he'd thought he was getting somewhere he'd encounter another problem, but finally, over two hours later and with the indicator on his oxygen tank dropping lower by the minute, he was ready to go. About time too. Alan, Scott and Virgil would be going frantic by now, he thought, imagining the conversation which would be going on thousands of metres above him. He wouldn't mind betting one of them had jokingly suggested he'd been held up because he'd lost Thunderbird Four and he dreaded having to let them know he really had.

"Okay," he said to himself, crossing his fingers as he reached out to press the button which would separate the pod from the base. "Here we go – I hope."

To his relief the pod disconnected from its clamps and began the slow journey to the surface. Much too slow... Casting a glance over the few gauges which were working, he cursed as he realised that only one of the thrusters had ignited. It was going to take twice as long as he'd anticipated to get to the surface – and his original estimate had been cutting it fine in terms of his air supply. Plus, he wasn't going straight up, but drifting eastwards. He'd break the surface some miles away from his original position. He only hoped his brothers would be searching a wider area since he wouldn't be able to contact them even when he was on the surface, not without a radio. Not for the first time he regretted taking off his wrist comm – not just because he'd have no means of communication with the other 'birds or Base, but because it was just one more essential piece of IR kit that his enemies had got away with.

It took Gordon over forty minutes to reach the surface, the most frustrating journey of his life – and the one he'd begun to think might be his last. By rationing his oxygen he managed to keep himself going, but by the time the pod crested the waves he was lightheaded and shaky. It was all he could do to pull himself to his feet in order to open a small porthole and he spent the next few minutes gratefully drawing in the cold, fresh air, too full of gratitude for his survival for the moment to wonder where his brothers were.

Eventually however he began to search the skies. There was no sign of One or Two. He assumed they would be following a standard search pattern, but then he had no way of knowing how far away from his starting point he actually was – or whether or not they'd already covered this bit of ocean and moved on. He forced himself to be positive, reminding himself that against the odds he'd got himself back to the surface. He'd be found eventually, he knew he would. He'd just have to wait it out.

But half an hour later, when the sky began to darken and the first heavy raindrops fell, Gordon knew his chances of being spotted from the air had just decreased dramatically. Closing the porthole he sat back, groaning as he realised that the water was growing decidedly choppy. With the wind clearly increasing every minute, he was at the mercy of the tides. Attempting to restart the engine in the hope of at least maintaining his present position, he cried out in frustration and kicked the control panel when it refused to respond. Seconds later the first flash of lightning confirmed that he'd only managed to shift himself from one bad situation into another.

* * *

><p>The storm hadn't pleased Scott either. He held out as long as he could but it was no surprise when he finally received the order to call off the search. Not that he gave in easily. It took his father several minutes to talk him round and to remind him that it was unlikely that Gordon was even out there.<p>

"Come home, son," Jeff told him.

"I need to get to the hospital."

"Scott, after everything that happened today we're taking a risk leaving one 'bird unattended there. We can't risk another one. I know you want to see Virgil - I do too - but you heard what Alan said. He's out of surgery and he's sleeping off the anaesthetic. With all the drugs in him he probably won't wake up for hours. You can see him tomorrow."

"Shouldn't I be searching for Gordon tomorrow?"

"We're not giving up. But you know as well as I do how unlikely it is that Gordon's out there waiting to be picked up. I need you back here, Scott. Your Grandmother's going frantic and Brains has shut himself in his lab again. I think he's blaming himself for all this."

"But that's crazy. Until today One's beaten anything that she's ever come up against." Scott's thoughts were naturally focused on his own 'bird.

"There are quite a few things we thought we were best at until today," his father pointed out grimly. "What's your ETA, Scott?"

Scott considered putting up another argument then thought better of it. As much as he wanted to be with his two brothers in the hospital he had to admit his father had a point. The place was only twenty miles away from the complex where Virgil had been shot. Near enough for someone to mount another attack should they choose to do so. John had arranged for the local police to guard Thunderbird Two, but Scott knew his father was talking sense when he said that they needed to protect what was left of the rest of the fleet.

"Sixty-three minutes," he informed his father.

"FAB. Fly safely, son."

It was closer to seventy-five minutes in the end since Scott couldn't resist making one more circuit of the search area. As One was buffeted by the strong winds and he strained to see clearly through the driving rain, he couldn't help hoping his brother wasn't out in this. Then again, the thought of him captured and at the mercy of the people who'd beaten Alan and shot Virgil didn't offer any comfort either.

* * *

><p>When the doctor had come out to see him a couple of hours after his arrival Alan had felt sick, certain the news would be bad and that he'd be the one who'd have to break it to his father. Instead he'd been informed that Virgil was going to be alright and he'd never felt such a sense of relief.<p>

He'd been surprised by the news that Scott wouldn't be joining him at the hospital. Part of him appreciated the fact that he'd been trusted to take care of Virgil, but another part of him really wanted some reassurance that he was doing all the right things. He was exhausted but he couldn't sleep. He couldn't even sit still. One minute he was sitting at Virgil's bedside, the next he'd be on his feet looking out of the window, or wandering out into the corridor in search of coffee or some assurance from one of the medical staff that his brother was progressing as he should. Every now and again he'd call Base or Five only to be told yet again that there was no news.

Once more he sat down beside Virgil, unable to stop himself checking the monitors just in case his brother's condition had changed in the minute or so which had passed since he'd last done so. Even now that Virgil was out of danger, the damage to his shoulder repaired and his body full of blood, Alan was still worried. His brother had been asleep for hours and Alan was desperate to speak to him to reassure himself that he really was going to be okay. But at the same time he dreaded Virgil waking up, knowing that when he did he'd want to know what had happened to Gordon. Alan didn't know what he was going to say to that – hearing the truth wasn't going to help Virgil's recovery one bit - and once again he wished Scott was there to help him out.

A rumble of thunder made him jump and he got up again and went over to the window. The rain was coming down heavily now and he knew conditions out at sea would be far worse. He wondered again where Gordon was and prayed he was safely out of the storm.

* * *

><p>But at that very moment, Gordon was shivering in his escape pod, trying to brace himself against the erratic movements of the craft as it was tossed around by the wind and waves. It wasn't easy and every now and again he would be thrown out of his seat, giving him numerous bruises to add to his list of woes. He was cold, tired, hungry and thirsty and he knew that in weather like this, there would be little hope of rescue for some time. Even when the storm blew itself out he'd have to hope he'd been washed towards shore or at least into a shipping lane, otherwise he might never be found.<p>

He hoped Thunderbird Four was in a better state than he was right now.


	8. Chapter 8

_Did I say things had eased off and I had time to write again? I should have known better than to tempt fate like that! Sorry this is late – work is taking up most of my time and energy at the moment. A huge thank you to everyone who reviewed or added this to their alerts, especially Whirlgirl, Sunny and Rachel since I can't reply to you in person._

Chapter Eight

Jeff had barely left his desk since his boys had flown out on what had appeared to be a straightforward mission. Now, over twelve hours later, with one son missing and one in hospital, he wondered whether this would be the day his luck finally ran out and he'd lose one of his boys for good. It wasn't fair, he thought. All he'd ever wanted to do was bring help and comfort to people in trouble, to stop them experiencing the same misery his own family had suffered when they'd lost Lucy. He'd done that alright, but it had cost his family dearly over the years. It was all his fault, he thought suddenly. He could have put his money into an existing organisation or openly funded a new rescue service. But no, he'd chosen to set up International Rescue in secret, revelling in the thrill of it all as the Thunderbirds and all the other equipment began to take shape, encouraging his boys to give up their dreams and follow his instead. It was alright for him, he thought, he had it easy. He wasn't the one facing death on every mission. Oh, it was stressful alright, sitting there waiting, feeling guilty every time someone returned with an injury, or whenever he watched his sons trying to deal with the emotional effects of the terrible things they'd witnessed, but what he experienced was nothing compared to what he made his sons face day after day. They'd never given him anything less than their whole-hearted support, but how he'd face them if he'd finally sent one of their brothers to his death, he didn't know.

He glanced across to the couch where Scott was sprawled asleep. His son had returned an hour ago, the only one of the four who'd left the island earlier that day to make it home. Ten minutes after he'd landed WASP had reported in and Jeff had been glad his son was safely on the ground as the last vestige of hope that they'd find Gordon safe and well was extinguished. The WASP submarine had reached the research station only to find no sign of Thunderbird Four and, having completed a thorough search of the base, had found no trace of his missing son either. Jeff found himself wondering if Gordon had even made it to the base. Maybe Four had come under attack and been overpowered before she had even reached it. He hoped Gordon was being held prisoner, but he couldn't help thinking about what had happened to Alan and Virgil. Despite having had two members of International Rescue in their grasp, their attackers hadn't wanted either man, leaving one for dead and the other tied up in the pod. Jeff could only pray that since this whole nightmarish scenario had seemingly been played out to get hold of Four, that they'd want her pilot too. The prospect of Gordon being forcibly removed from his 'bird and left to suffocate or drown was more than he could bear. He tried to tell himself it was just his imagination working overtime, but he couldn't shake the image. Then again, the thought of these people doing everything they could to force Gordon to reveal Four's secrets didn't appeal either.

He knew Scott had been thinking the same dismal thoughts, though neither man had voiced their suspicions whilst Grandma remained in the lounge. She'd done her best to encourage them not to give up hope, but her own fears proved hard to hide and, once Scott had given in to the exhaustion he'd clearly been fighting ever since he returned, she'd gently placed a blanket over him and gone to her own room. Jeff just hoped she'd managed to find some peace that night, though he knew there would have been plenty of tears before sleep brought relief. Only his mother's insistence that he stay focused on Gordon had prevented him from going to her – he knew she'd have just kicked him straight back out if he'd tried. Quite honestly he didn't think he'd have any words of comfort anyway.

He supposed he should try to sleep himself, even if it was just a few snatched minutes in his chair. After all, if a ransom was demanded for Gordon or Thunderbird Four he'd need to be alert enough to deal with it. Both John and Alan had suggested he get some rest every time they'd called in, but he'd forced himself to hide his tiredness, insisting that he was perfectly fine. He knew both sons needed to see that he was in control, especially after all that had happened over the past year. Alan was clearly in pain from his own injuries and, if Jeff was any judge of things, suffering slightly from shock after being forced to battle for his brother's life. He needed his father's reassurance more than ever right now. Jeff was desperately worried about Virgil too, despite having spoken at length to his doctor. At least the news there was good, though only when his middle-son was finally awake would Jeff let himself relax. He knew Alan felt the same way, despite admitting that he dreaded having to break the news that Gordon was still missing. But at least the two brothers would be able to support each other.

John, on the other hand, had no one. Five could be a lonely place at the best of times but in situations like this the isolation could be intolerable, especially when Jeff knew his second-born was blaming himself for not identifying the threat before the enemy could strike. John was still trying to find some trace of Gordon as well as searching for something to give him a lead on whoever it was who had done this, but as the hours went by with no success, Jeff could tell his son was starting to lose hope. He'd cast around for something to say to reassure him but, unlike Alan, John would always look on the dark side and Jeff had finally given up, knowing he'd find more comfort in his practical tasks than in any well-meaning platitudes his father could offer.

Jeff yawned once again, his head drooping as his eyes slid closed. But he stubbornly shook himself awake and called for Kyrano – faithful as always and insisting on staying up until there was news of Gordon – to order yet more coffee. Scott was bound to wake up soon and Jeff wanted to talk to him just as soon as he did. One of the others might also need him and, whilst he knew they wouldn't think any less of him for taking some rest, he found he couldn't bring himself to give in to his desperate need for sleep. Over the past few months he'd let his sons down time and time again. He owed it to them to be there for them now.

* * *

><p>Jeff wasn't the only Tracy who needed a break. As hard as he'd fought against it, determined to keep watch over his injured brother, Alan had finally drifted off into a restless sleep. He couldn't really get comfortable in the hospital chair, though, and eventually, shifting position and banging his elbow hard against the wooden armrest, he'd jerked awake, confused for a moment as to where he was and what had happened. It didn't take long for the memories to come flooding back, though – the pain from his missing tooth wasn't going to let him forget what had happened just yet anyway. He yawned and stretched, then glanced over at Virgil, only to jump in surprise at the sight of his brother gazing back at him.<p>

"You're awake," Alan said, intending to leap up out of his chair but instead only managing a slow stiff lurch to his feet.

"Yeah," Virgil said weakly and Alan immediately reached for the call button, only to have his brother feebly try to pull his hand away. Alan knew what was coming and so, desperate to avoid having to break the news that Gordon was still missing, began to babble inanely about anything that came into his head. The news that Scott had evaded his attackers made Virgil perk up a little, but the anxious look was soon back in his eyes and he tried to interrupt his brother, only for Alan to announce that he was going to find a doctor.

But Alan had only got as far as the door, still mumbling something about Virgil's need to rest when a cry of pain made him turn back. His attempts to distract Virgil clearly hadn't worked and his brother had tried to sit himself up, only for his injured shoulder to inform him that such movement probably wasn't a good idea. Alan was back at Virgil's side in an instant, knowing from the sudden frantic beeping of the monitors that someone would be with them soon.

"Calm down," he said, pushing Virgil back. "You've got to look after yourself, Virg. You were shot, remember."

"Never mind me," his brother insisted, more forcefully than Alan would have expected, given everything he'd been through. "Gordon..."

The door opened then and a nurse came in, but Virgil kept his gaze firmly fixed on Alan. Finally the youngest Tracy dropped his eyes, unable to look at his brother as he shook his head. "We don't know," he said softly as the nurse moved towards Virgil, frowning at the readings the machines were giving her.

Within a few minutes Virgil was drifting off to sleep again, heavy doses of painkillers and sedatives beginning to do their work. Even so, he managed to keep his eyes open long enough to properly take in Alan's battered appearance.

"You okay?" he whispered.

Alan nodded. "Don't worry about me, Virg. You just take care of yourself." He smiled in what he hoped was a reassuring manner, only for Virgil to frown and whisper something about him needing to go back to the pod and find his tooth. Alan thought about the sedatives and decided that now was as good a time as any to break the news about the destruction of pod four. It didn't surprise him that Virgil fought the drugs long enough to lament the damage to his 'bird and swear vengeance on those responsible. When his brother finally slipped back into sleep he watched him for a while, confident for the first time since finding him lying in the escape pod that he was going to be alright. Then he called Base and Five, pleased to be able to give them the first bit of good news they'd had for a while.

* * *

><p>Miles away from the hospital, far out to sea, Gordon was having a miserable time. For the first time in his life he felt seasick, the pod being tossed around relentlessly by the waves. When, just before dawn, the storm finally blew itself out and the sea became calmer once more, he gave in to the exhaustion he felt, curling up on the floor, accepting that the waves would take him in whichever direction they chose. It was late morning before he awoke. He was hungry and thirsty but at least he wasn't quite so cold– the sun was out and the pod was beginning to warm up. He got shakily to his feet and looked out. No sign of any Thunderbirds, but then he could be anywhere by now, so that wasn't unexpected. It would have been nice to have seen a familiar craft circling overhead, though. Gordon had had enough of the ocean. He just wanted to go home.<p>

Thoughts of his missing Thunderbird didn't make him feel any better as he sat idly in the pod whilst the hours dragged on. He tried to keep his spirits up but as time went by and there was still no sign of rescue he couldn't help wondering if help was ever going to come. Once again he poked his head out of the port hole. The skies were clear but, just as he went to pull his head in, he saw something to the west that made his heart leap. It was a boat, some kind of fishing vessel by the look of it. It was some way away and, even as he yelled out and waved his arms, Gordon knew he'd have to do a lot more than that if he wanted them to see him. The small size of the pod made it unlikely he'd be spotted unless he did something to draw attention to himself.

But what? He had no flares. He dived at the control panel, scrabbling around on the floor for his screwdriver as he did so, praying that the boat wouldn't disappear before he could remove one of the metal panels. That at least would allow him to reflect the sun and signal his presence.

The panel would serve its purpose but, typically given Gordon's recent run of bad luck, one of the screws refused to turn and he wasted precious seconds trying to shift it before abandoning all subtlety, bracing his feet against the panel and removing it with sheer brute force, panic that he'd lose his only lifeline giving him the strength he needed to pull it free. Then he was hanging out of the porthole and signalling the ship, unable to stop himself adding some faint, pointless cries for help.

For a long time nothing happened and Gordon couldn't help thinking that his efforts had been in vain. They hadn't seen him. If the boat left him now, he thought, he'd probably die – lack of water was beginning to be a major problem, ironic when he was surrounded by so much of it. He stared across the ocean willing the boat to change course, his eyes watering as he barely dared even to blink. At first he could hardly believe what he was seeing, forcing himself not to get his hopes up. But when, after a few minutes, he realised that the boat really had changed direction, he allowed himself to accept that his prayers had finally been answered. The boat was heading straight for him – they'd seen him.

Gordon collapsed back into the pod for a moment, trying to gather his thoughts. As overwhelming as the prospect of rescue was, there were important decisions to be made and he didn't have much time. Should he introduce himself as Gordon Tracy or as a member of International Rescue? There was no insignia on his wetsuit to indicate that he was part of IR so they might not believe him anyway. On balance, Gordon thought, it might be better to pretend to be someone else entirely – after recent events a Tracy in trouble would be almost as newsworthy as a missing Thunderbird and, quite frankly, he didn't want the embarrassment of either becoming widely known.

So, when he was hauled onto the deck of the fishing boat and had drunk his fill of the water they offered him, he simply gave his name as Gordon Smith (he hadn't had the energy to come up with anything more exciting) and told them that he'd been working on a research station whose hull had been breached. It was almost the truth and the men who'd picked him up saw no reason to disbelieve him, offering Gordon the use of their radio as they informed him that he was some fifty miles away from the point where he'd started nearly twenty-four hours earlier.

Gordon really wanted to call International Rescue, but, with a crewman hovering over him, he decided he couldn't risk contacting John directly. Instead he put in a call to the coastguard, knowing his brother would be monitoring all communications in the area and smiling to himself as he pictured his reaction when he realised what was going on.

Five minutes later, the call made and the coastguard promising to send a helicopter out to pick him up within the hour, he could sit back and relax, gratefully accepting the coffee and sandwiches he was given. At that moment it wasn't difficult to put all thoughts of Four out of his head for a while, and Gordon spent the next few minutes just enjoying the fact that he was alive and would soon be reunited with his family.


	9. Chapter 9

_As always I'm really grateful to everyone who's taken the time to review. Bee_

Chapter Nine

Sleep had finally overtaken Jeff despite all his efforts to stay alert just in case there was any news. It was his mother who woke him, clearly torn between relief that he was finally resting and fear that he'd do some real damage to himself, slumped as he was over his desk. Jeff wasn't sure whether she'd done him a favour or not as he tried to manoeuvre his stiff and aching neck into a position where it wasn't practically at right-angles to his body.

"Sweetheart, you really should go to bed," she said gently, knowing full well he'd do no such thing.

He rubbed his eyes for a moment, rolling his neck around again and wishing he'd taken her advice earlier. But the hour or so he'd been asleep had done him good, and anyway, there were more pressing issues than those relating to his own well-being.

"I don't suppose there's any news?" he asked tentatively.

"You know we'd have woken you if there was anything new," she told him. "Alan called in a while ago. He said Virgil's doing well and the doctors are happy with his progress. They've had to sedate him again, though – he kept trying to get out of bed to go and look for Gordon.

Jeff couldn't help smiling at this, relieved that Virgil was on the mend even as it brought all his fears over Gordon flooding back.

"Where's Scott?" he asked, suddenly registering the empty couch where his eldest son had been asleep.

"On his way back to the search area."

It was John's voice which came through this time and Jeff wasn't surprised to see his exhausted son peering at him from the vid-screen.

"He should have told me he was going," Jeff commented, scarcely able to believe he'd slept through the launch.

"He didn't want to wake you."

_More likely he didn't want to have me tell him there was no point in searching again,_ Jeff thought miserably. He'd never give up on Gordon, but it seemed clear from what Virgil had overheard that Thunderbird Four had been the target all along. Jeff knew Scott wasn't going to find the craft floating around waiting to be picked up, however much he might wish for such a thing.

"Any luck in getting some leads on these people?" he asked John, nodding his thanks at his mother who had just emerged from the kitchen with the largest mug she could find, full to the brim with caffeine.

"Nothing. They're good, Dad."

"I know." Jeff frowned. He'd grown complacent, he thought, used to Brains coming up with technology for International Rescue which would outclass anything the rest of the world had to offer. Brains was unique in many ways, Jeff thought, but he wasn't the only genius in the world. He should have known that someone somewhere would eventually prove a match for him. It was typical Tracy bad luck that instead of working for the good of the world, these people were apparently out to cause harm. It seemed that the only area in which they couldn't rival IR was underwater – and with Four's technology in their grasp, that might only be a matter of time. He'd love to know who they were – and he wanted more than anything to bring them to justice, for Virgil and Alan's sake, as well as for Gordon's.

"Base to Thunderbird One." Jeff decided there was no sense in speculating, not when he had sons to check up on.

"Thunderbird One here. How are you feeling, Dad?"

"Fine," Jeff said defensively. "You should have told me you were leaving. How far away are you from the rescue site?"

"What rescue?" Scott asked sullenly, before his professional face slid back into place. "Forty-three minutes." There was a pause for a moment before he continued. "I know there's not much hope, Dad. But I've got to try."

"I know, son." Jeff decided it would be easier just to leave Scott to it. He turned back to John's vid-link, only to see his son apparently deep in concentration over his monitors. He just hoped it wasn't another callout. Thunderbird Two was thousands of miles away with no pod and no equipment. They were short on personnel too.

But when John turned to face his father it didn't look as if he had bad news for him. Quite the contrary – his previous tense expression had not only vanished, but there was a spark in his eye which told Jeff all he needed to know even before John casually asked,

"Guess who just called in?"

The squeal from Tin-Tin who had just appeared in the lounge was matched by the cry of relief from Grandma. The two women hurried to stand beside Jeff's desk, Kyrano running in to join them from the kitchen, alerted by the noise. John's smile got even wider as his father glared at him, demanding information right away.

"Just let me patch Scott in on this," he muttered, reaching out to press another button.

"Scotty, you there?"

"I'm here. What is it, John?" Scott's anxious tone suggested that the implications of John's cheery greeting hadn't registered. He sounded like a man who expected bad news.

"Oh, nothing much. Just wanted to say 'hi'. Gordon's back, by the way."

"_What?_ Where is he? Is he okay? What state is Four in?"

John's smile slipped for a moment before he decided that a living brother was more important than a missing Thunderbird.

"No idea about Four. Five was programmed to alert me to any transmissions which might be relevant. She picked up a call from a fishing boat about fifty miles away from where Two dropped Gordon off. Listen..."

He replayed the call Gordon had made to the coastguard. Jeff couldn't help the smile which spread over his face at the sound of his boy safe and well. When he heard the recording a second time he'd pick up on how tired and shaky his son sounded, but for now all that mattered was that he'd come back to them.

"Guess I'd better go and pick up this Gordon Smith, then," Scott said, his own grin mirroring those of his father and brother.

"Hold on a minute, Scott," Jeff told him. "We all want Gordon back as soon as possible, but International Rescue can't just go flying in to pick up random members of the public, not when the situation's already under control. You heard the recording. Gordon clearly wants to keep his link with IR a secret. You'll have to let the coastguard collect him. By the time you get there Gordon will be well on his way back to shore anyway."

Scott looked annoyed for a moment before shrugging as he recognised the logic of his father's arguments. "Fair enough. Tell you what, I'll stop off at the hospital and let Virgil and Alan know."

"Good idea." John thought for a moment. "Why don't I call the coastguard and tell them we picked up the transmission? If I let them know we rescued the others from the base yesterday and we've been searching for the missing crewman it won't seem so strange if we insist on finishing the job. Scott can pick Gords up when he's back on dry land and take him back to join the rest of his team. It's almost the truth."

"For once," Scott smiled. "Good plan, John."

"I'll call you when he's ready," John told him. "Let us know how Virg is doing."

"Alan too," Tin-Tin reminded him.

"Give me an hour or so and I'll be able to report on all three of them," Scott told her. "Speak to you guys later."

He signed off, knowing that under the circumstances his father wouldn't pull him up for his lack of protocol. He felt better than he'd done for hours when he finally reached his destination, bringing One in to land beside her sister ship, looking forward to seeing Virgil and Alan's reactions when they heard the news.

But in the event only Alan was awake when Scott quietly pushed the door of Virgil's room open and poked his head through, hoping to surprise his brothers. Alan certainly was surprised at his sudden appearance, but he'd clearly been anticipating bad news, so, when Scott informed him of Gordon's rescue, the hoped-for chorus of delight didn't materialise. Alan just stared at him in disbelief before dropping his head into his hands for a moment, unable to believe he still had a full complement of brothers.

"You okay?" Scott asked in a half-whisper, not wanting to wake Virgil who looked pale but peaceful as he slept off the drugs he'd been dosed with throughout the night.

"Yeah," Alan nodded, a little more confidently this time. "It's just, I kept thinking..." He didn't need to finish as Scott squeezed his shoulder tightly for a moment before examining his face, his smile fading away.

"I'm okay," Alan insisted. "Honestly, Scott, it looks worse than it is."

"Well it looks bad enough," Scott told him. "Hurt?"

Alan shrugged. "It's nothing, Scott. Not compared to what happened to Virgil. Is Gordon alright?"

"He sounded a bit rough. I'll know more when I see him." Scott glanced at his watch. "When's Sleeping Beauty here likely to wake up?"

"No idea. He's been in and out all night. Probably just as well - if he was awake he'd just be stressing about Gords. We could probably wake him up..." Alan looked doubtfully up at Scott, reluctant to get his middle brother over-excited. The doctor had insisted on complete rest in order to ensure a full recovery and Virgil wasn't good at following those kinds of orders at the best of times.

"Leave him be," Scott decided. "You never know how Virg is going to react to being woken up, anyway."

Alan smiled, causing his oldest brother to frown again at his missing tooth.

"What about Four?" he asked, changing the subject before Scott could start fussing.

Scott grew serious. "No idea. Let's get Gordon back and find out what happened. Then we can work out where we go from here."

He and Alan sat talking quietly for a while, speculating over the identity of their assailants and Gordon's likely reaction to the loss of Thunderbird Four. At last John called in with the news that the coastguard's helicopter was nearing the shore and Scott set off to bring their brother home.

* * *

><p>Gordon's delight at being on his way home had only been surpassed by the news which had come over the radio to the pilot when they were halfway back to shore.<p>

"Looks like you're in for a treat," he announced. "International Rescue was called out when your base was damaged. They rescued the rest of your crew and they've been searching for you ever since. One of their guys is going to pick you up from our station."

It was just as well that Gordon had turned away to hide the massive grin which he hadn't been able to stop creeping over his face, because the next moment his euphoria was shattered.

"I heard they ran into trouble yesterday," the co-pilot commented. "My sister-in-law's a nurse. Apparently one of their men was brought in with a bullet in him."

Gordon froze. In all the panic over Four and his own predicament he hadn't considered that another 'bird might have been targeted. Taking a deep breath and forcing himself to wipe the look of terror off his face – he'd caught sight of his reflection in the window and he knew he was in real danger of giving something away if he wasn't careful – he turned back to the men.

"Really?" He might have controlled his facial expression but he couldn't stop the waver in his voice. "Is he okay?"

"She didn't know. You'd think people would be grateful for their help, wouldn't you? Think it was one of your lot that did it?"

Gordon shook his head, unable to trust himself to utter another word. All thoughts of Four were pushed aside – he supposed the news of her loss wasn't going to be that much of a surprise now anyway. He was only concerned with his injured brother. Who was it? He had no way of knowing what had gone on since he'd begun his descent to the research station. Anything could have happened. It could be any one of his brothers.

"You okay?" one of the men asked. "You've gone a bit pale."

"I'm fine." Gordon took a deep breath and forced a smile. "Just get a bit airsick, that's all. That's why I'd rather be underwater."

"Rather you than me," the pilot told him. "Don't know how you stand it down there."

Well, Gordon thought, he wouldn't be going down there for a while, not without a sub. He looked back out of the window, straining to see land and doing all he could to push away the miserable thoughts which kept creeping in. It had been bad enough when he feared for his own life. Worrying about a brother – and not even knowing which one – was a hundred times worse.

The helicopter landed and he made his way outside, gazing up into the sky and wondering which 'bird would be coming to get him. That might at least give him some clue as to who had been hurt. Thunderbird One would mean Alan or Scott was piloting, whilst Two's arrival would definitely mean Virgil was okay – he might not want to leave Scott if he'd been the one to be shot, but he wouldn't stand for Alan piloting his 'bird.

The tiny speck in the sky gradually grew larger, but the sound of the engine told Gordon all he needed to know long before he could visually identify the craft. It was One. Despite his fears for his injured brother – whoever it might be - he couldn't help a burst of relief when the craft touched down, hating himself for the brief spark of joy which shot through him as he realised his ordeal was truly over. Cursing himself for his selfishness – even if it was momentary and completely instinctive - he forced himself to act naturally as he waited for the pilot to shut down and open the hatch. When Scott climbed out Gordon thought he'd never been so glad to see his brother, even as panic over Virgil and Alan threatened to overwhelm him.

With several members of the coastguard looking on in awe as One landed, Scott couldn't afford to be anything other than professional as he exchanged pleasantries with the crew before escorting 'Mr Smith' across to his 'bird. A swift handshake during which he'd gripped his brother's hand extra-tightly had had to say it all whilst there were witnesses to their reunion, but once the pair were safely locked inside One they would be able to let their true feelings show. Even then, Scott knew he'd pretend to be just mildly pleased to see his brother, though he supposed his face would give away just how glad he was that they were finally reunited. Gordon was playing his part well, but Scott could sense how on edge he was and wondered just what had happened to him.

It came as something of a surprise when the second he shut the door to One Gordon fell to pieces, but not because of his own ordeal, instead begging to know who had been hurt and what their condition was.

"How did you know?" Scott asked before registering Gordon's look of fury at the delay. "Gords, it's okay. Virgil took a bullet in the shoulder. It was dicey for a while but he's going to be okay. I'm taking you back to the hospital now, you can see for yourself."

"You're not just saying that?" Gordon wasn't convinced.

"I swear. Here, call Dad and John – they're desperate to talk to you. You can tell us all what happened to you. I guess those people took Four?"

"Yeah. Did they try to take Two as well?"

"No. They just seemed to want all the equipment that goes with your 'bird." Scott gave his brother a brief rundown of the previous day's events, though he kept quiet about the destruction of the pod. Gordon was likely to be just as put out as Virgil at the news, even if he didn't have a submarine to put in it any more.

"Come on," he told his brother. "Call Dad. He's been worried about you. We all have."

* * *

><p>Jeff had been waiting impatiently for his fourth son to call. His initial joy at finally hearing from Gordon and the relief at discovering that he hadn't been hurt in any way - confirmed by Scott since Jeff refused just to take Gordon's word for it – was soon replaced by anger as Gordon gave an account of his ordeal. Forcing himself to remain calm he congratulated his son on his success in getting himself out alive, reassuring him that they'd do all they could to find Four.<p>

"John's on it now," he told him, the astronaut adding his own promise that things would be made right again. "I'm waiting for Penny to call in, but I know she'll do everything she can to help. These people won't get away with it, Gordon."

Gordon nodded and exchanged a glance with Scott, each recognising the grim look of determination in the other's eyes. Whether it was avenging a brother or a 'bird, someone somewhere was going to pay.

Alan had endured a frustrating wait for Scott to return with Gordon. Now that the worry was over – he'd spared the odd passing thought for Four, but his real concern had been for Virgil and Gordon – he just wanted to go home. Like his father and brothers he wanted to do all he could to recover the stolen submarine and punish those responsible, but that was in the future. All that mattered to him right now was getting himself and his brothers back to the security of Tracy Island.

"Wake up, Virg," he muttered softly, not wanting to disturb his brother but desperate to break the news about Gordon. As he was wondering whether to risk poking him in the ribs – always guaranteed to wake a ticklish Virgil – the matter was taken out of his hands. Virgil stirred and opened his eyes, staring up at Alan a little dazedly.

"Hey," Alan said. "How are you feeling?"

Virgil pulled a face. "Like I've been shot. Any news?"

Alan's sore mouth prevented him from grinning as widely as he wanted to. He didn't want to give his brother too much of a shock – however welcome the surprise might be – but before he could impart the news gently the door flew open and Gordon burst in, followed a second later by an only slightly less-restrained Scott.

Once Virgil had got over the shock – a nurse had come running in, alarmed as the monitors suddenly went wild – and the brothers had settled down a little, stories could be told. Naturally Gordon went first. The aquanaut tried to make light of his ordeal but he knew no one would be fooled by his nonchalance, especially when his voice cracked a little as he recounted the moment when he'd realised Thunderbird Four had gone.

"We'll get her back, son." Jeff's voice came through Scott's wrist comm and Gordon smiled, appreciating the sentiment even though he found himself completely unable to believe his father. He had a horrible feeling he'd lost Four for good.

Virgil spoke next. It was the first time anyone had had the chance to hear his side of things and Gordon even managed to forget about his 'bird for a moment when he learned his brother had been shot in the back, a detail Scott had neglected to mention.

After Scott and Alan had recounted their adventures, silence fell for a moment as everyone considered what had happened. But it was only temporary and soon a heated discussion developed as they tried to decide what they should do next. Various schemes were suggested but, as John pointed out, until they knew who they were dealing with, there was little they could do.

"Gordon, I want you back here," Jeff said once everyone had had their say and the arguments had wound down. "Your Grandmother's worried about you and she won't be happy until she's seen for herself that you're okay."

Gordon had to admit that he liked the idea of going home. For a while he'd feared he'd never see the island again.

"I'll fly you back in One." Alan got stiffly to his feet. He'd been stuck in the hospital chair for hours and, bruised and battered, he too wanted to get home. He could leave Virgil in Scott's care now, his duty done.

Sure enough, Scott looked at Virgil for a moment before nodding at Alan. "Take care of her," he couldn't help warning, before catching sight of Gordon's pained expression and hating himself for needlessly fretting over his own 'bird when anything could be happening to Four. It wasn't the first time one of them had made a similar tactless comment. Gordon's initial faint hope that perhaps they wouldn't be able to get inside her had been shattered when Alan had recounted the way in which his captors had cut through the side of pod four. Of course that had set Virgil off complaining about the loss of the pod, which had clearly depressed Gordon even more. He'd refrained from pointing out that Two had other pods, not to mention that the rest of his brothers still had their own vehicles, but the sudden awkward silence which had fallen suggested that everyone knew what he was thinking. Alan's comment that he'd be in charge of Two until Virgil was fit to fly again didn't make Gordon feel any better and, judging by Virgil's face, the idea hadn't pleased him either.

Scott pulled Gordon to one side before he left, asking him to pass on a message to Brains. It was clear that he felt guilty for not making the 'birds more secure and Scott wanted him to know that no one else was blaming him.

Alan took the chance to make a final check on Virgil, finding that he still felt responsible for him despite Scott's presence. He was surprised when his brother reached across with his good arm and caught his wrist.

"Thanks," Virgil whispered. "Guess I wouldn't be here if it wasn't for you."

"Don't worry about it," Alan smiled, regretting it when Virgil frowned. "I know, I know. I'll get it fixed."

Virgil smiled back at him as Scott came over.

"Take care Al." The oldest Tracy watched as his brothers left the room. "And as for you," he said sternly, turning to Virgil. "Didn't I tell you to wait till I got there? This is what happens when you go rushing into things."

Virgil considered pointing out that Scott had been held up and he'd thought that Alan had been in need of rescuing, before deciding that his argument might not be particularly effective since Alan had actually been fine. Scott would just moan at him for jumping to conclusions instead of checking the pod before chasing the truck into the complex. Deciding that the best way to avoid a lecture was to run away from it, he made a show of yawning widely and settling down into his pillows.

"Tired..." he murmured, despite the fact that he'd already slept for hours. Still, being Virgil, he could always manage a short nap and he immediately drifted back into a sleep which was much more restful now that he knew Gordon was safe and well.

* * *

><p>Back on the island Jeff shut down his vid-link and leaned back in his chair. It had done everyone good to let off steam but there would need to be a proper debrief later on and important decisions would have to be made. Pressing a button, he summoned Brains from his lab. The matter of Four's loss had to be addressed right away. He'd do anything and everything to get the original back, but he had to be realistic. This new enemy was cunning and they'd got the best of International Rescue at every turn. There was a good chance Four would be lost forever – and even if they did manage to recover her it might not be for some time. People could die because of this and he couldn't let that happen. IR had to be back at full operational capacity as soon as possible. Gordon would be heartbroken, but if Thunderbird Four wasn't found within the week, they'd have to start thinking about building a replacement.<p> 


	10. Chapter 10

_Thanks as always for the feedback on the last chapter. Sorry this one's a bit late! Bee_

Chapter Ten

Nearly thirty-six hours later, as Virgil was being loaded into Thunderbird Two ready for the move back to Tracy Island – at Scott's insistence even more than his own, the oldest Tracy having grown tired of listening to Virgil complaining about the food and flirting with the nurses, even though both served merely as brief respites from the constant fretting over the fate of Thunderbird Four which occupied most of the brothers' waking hours – a submarine approached a small island in the middle of the South Atlantic. Hundreds of miles from its nearest neighbour and tiny enough to be left off all but the most detailed of maps, the island appeared to be just another wealthy businessman's holiday retreat.

There were never any casual visitors to this particular island, but if someone _had_ accidentally made their way onto its shores they would have found themselves in an apparent paradise, unspoiled by any development beyond a luxurious but rather small villa set in beautiful gardens. They would certainly have had no idea that beneath the house, all entrances carefully hidden and protected by the most sophisticated of security devices, lay a vast underground complex where some of the world's most brilliant minds worked to produce the ultimate in weaponry and military hardware.

The submarine came to a stop some two miles away from its destination, the closest it could get without becoming beached on the rocks and sand banks which surrounded the island. It surfaced and then, surprisingly, given the state-of-the-art communications devices on board, signalled across to the island with nothing more elaborate than a mirror. Clearly someone had been awaiting its arrival since within seconds a boat was launched. Twenty minutes later, with many expressions of gratitude to the captain, along with promises that within six months he'd be commanding a whole fleet of far more sophisticated vessels, a small yellow submarine was released from the clamps which had held her in place ever since the larger sub had picked her up. Carefully secured to the ropes which trailed behind the boat, within minutes Thunderbird Four had been towed back to the island and into what, to all outside appearances, was a small cave. But as with so much of the island, appearances were deceptive, and the cave turned out to be the entrance to an underground lagoon where the sub would stay until all her technology had been stripped out and analysed. A laboratory had been built on the shore, where all the equipment which had been taken from pod four stood waiting to be inventoried and examined. It had arrived just an hour earlier, after a complex journey through several countries via road, rail, sea and air, designed to be virtually impossible to track.

A small group of people was waiting as Thunderbird Four was steered into the dock which had been purpose-built for her. When she was finally secured it was drained, leaving the sub lying forlornly on the floor, ready for her captors to begin their efforts to replicate her – with less rescue equipment but plenty of added weapons capability, of course. The new version of Thunderbird Four wasn't intended to do good. Far from it.

"Good work, everyone!" Freddy McAllister announced, stepping forward and running an appreciative hand over the sub. He turned to the man at his side. "What do you think?"

Sir Reuben McAllister was silent for a moment, looking at the stolen vessel in satisfaction. When one of his best customers, the ruler of a small but troublesome island nation, had demanded a new fleet of submarines to help him gain the upper hand in his ongoing battles with WASP and his neighbours, he'd been stumped for a while, knowing there was little his team of scientists and engineers could come up with which wouldn't be matched quickly by others. Then, watching news footage of an oil rig fire which would have been disastrous if Thunderbird Four hadn't been there to save the day, he'd had his brainwave. His client already had several large submarines, what he needed was manoeuvrability and speed and there was only one craft which fitted the bill. He could have had his team set to work creating something similar – they certainly had the capability to do so – but that would have taken time and the impatient dictator had been willing to pay handsomely for a quick result. Besides, Sir Reuben liked a challenge. Not to mention that one or two of the new subs would be useful to him in defending his own island. One day, he knew, the authorities would get wise to him, and when that day came he was determined he wasn't going down without a fight. The island was well-defended from the air – the elaborate scheme for the theft of Four had enabled him to give his newly modified helicopters a good workout, too, and all had gone well. In fact, he'd just taken an order for five of them from the same man who'd ordered the submarines, the encounter with Thunderbird One having clearly impressed the man. All in all, it had been a profitable few days.

"Not bad," he grunted in response to his nephew's question. "But why are you just standing around? We've got two months to get the prototype ready. Hadn't you better get started?" He moved back to the elevator which would take him up to the house. "I'll expect a progress report every twenty-four hours."

Freddy rolled his eyes, wondering if it would have killed the man to say something nice. Just once it would be nice to hear a _thank you_ or a _well done_. After all, he'd managed to achieve what several others had failed to do. Their attempts to hijack a Thunderbird had seen them end up in prison, his had succeeded. But even that hadn't impressed his uncle.

"Cheer up, darling," Sahara said, patting his shoulder gently. "Remember, one day this will all be yours. Just stick it out until your uncle's dead and then you'll be laughing."

He smiled, wondering if there was anything he could do to hasten that wonderful day. Probably not whilst the man surrounded himself with bodyguards, but the thought was pleasant enough...

"Can we get on with it?" an impatient voice came from behind him, and he turned to face an elderly man in a white coat.

"Help yourself, Professor," Freddy told him, standing back as the man shuffled towards the sub, leaning heavily on his walking stick.

"Are you sure he's up to it?" he whispered to Marcus Ivins who had come to stand beside him.

Marcus shrugged. "He was the chief designer of submarines for the British navy for thirty years. He knows what he's doing."

"I hope you're right," Freddy muttered, watching as the submarine was scanned, weighed and measured. Marcus joined Professor Franklin and the two were soon deep in discussion as they slowly worked their way around the craft, stopping every so often to comment on some feature of the craft.

Another man had been working on the security devices which had kept the airlock door firmly closed. Finally he rose to his feet, shaking his head. "There's no chance of cracking this," he announced.

The professor sighed, running his hand over Four's hull. "Such a pity," he muttered. "But it has to be done. Ivins, is all the data collected?

"Yes, Professor."

"Very well then, let's get on with it."

Five minutes later Marcus stood at the side of the submarine, the same cutting equipment in his hands which had made such easy work of pod four. He wondered if the hull of the Thunderbird would be harder to cut through, but was delighted to find that his special mixture of chemicals (the formula furtively copied from the notebook of the boy he'd taken such delight in bullying all those years ago at Cambridge) was as effective as ever. Within minutes they would be inside Four and their work could truly begin.


	11. Chapter 11

_Sorry this is late - again. Blame work, life and Christmas! Should be back to regular weekly updates now - maybe even a couple of extra chapters over the holidays. Thank you so much to everyone who's reviewed. Bee_

Chapter Eleven

Ever since word had gone out that Thunderbird Four had been taken, International Rescue's agents had worked tirelessly to find anything which might help the Tracys track down their missing craft. Penny had finally made contact, full of apologies for her absence, explaining that she'd been busy with a top secret mission for MI5. Whilst her work there wasn't done, it seemed she'd reached a point in her investigations where she could spare some time to help IR, so Scott, as soon as he'd brought Virgil safely home, set off in Thunderbird One to bring her over for a full briefing. Jeff had initially suggested sending Gordon, but Scott, whether because he'd spent the past couple of days pining for One, or maybe because he wanted to spare Gordon the misery of commanding someone else's 'bird when his own was who-knew-where, refused. Of course, there could have been another reason, as Alan pointed out as he watched One disappear into the distance, but even the opportunity for some lively speculation on the topic of Scott and Penny's relationship didn't make Gordon feel better. He'd been irritable ever since he'd arrived back on the island and eventually Alan abandoned his efforts to cheer him up and went to do some work on Three instead.

Whilst they waited for Penny, Jeff and Grandma fussed over Virgil. He was delighted to be home, even if he did collapse into bed exhausted as soon as lunch was over. Alan in the meantime, happy to see that all was well with his middle brother, set off for the mainland and a long-overdue appointment with a dentist, much to Tin-Tin's relief. Gordon, with nothing better to do, found himself once again wandering aimlessly around Two's hangar moping over the empty space where pod four should have been before contacting John for the fourth time that day, just in case anything new had been reported. John replied with his usual patience, but Gordon knew his brother was becoming increasingly frustrated – not just with the constant calls from Gordon but also with his failure to find anything which might lead them to Thunderbird Four and the people who'd taken her.

It was late afternoon when Scott returned with Penny. Jeff ushered her into the lounge straight away to help him and John review the numerous reports which had been coming in from IR's agents. Once that was done he called Scott, Gordon and Brains in for a conference. Alan was still on the mainland, but he could tell Penny his side of the story later. Jeff had just begun to sum up the situation when the door opened and Virgil shuffled in, followed by a worried Grandma.

"Shouldn't you be in bed?" Jeff asked, frowning at his son's pale, tired face.

"Probably," Virgil agreed, continuing his slow progress over to the couch.

"Jeff?" Grandma clearly expected her son to order Virgil back to his room. Instead Jeff shrugged and told Gordon to shift over to make room for his brother. Grandma shook her head, wondering why she bothered. She sat down near the piano where she could keep an eye on her injured grandson.

"How are you, Virgil, darling?" Penny asked, full of concern.

"I'm okay," Virgil told her. "Though I'd be a whole lot better if there was some good news about Four." He sensed Gordon tensing up beside him, knowing how his brother was feeling. Virgil knew he'd have been the same if it had been Two which had been taken. It had been bad enough losing a pod. He hadn't been too happy about Scott flying his 'bird home, but it had still been good to get back to her and to see for himself that she was okay.

"Alright then, here's the situation." Jeff was keen to get back on track. "We have two priorities. The first is to locate Thunderbird Four and bring the people who took her to justice. Penny, I know you're busy, but we really need your expertise here. No one has been able to find out anything so far."

"I'll do everything I can, Jeff," the aristocrat promised. "It's such a nuisance that this has happened just now. But I've committed myself to MI5 and I really can't let them down."

"We understand," Scott told her. "But if anyone can find out something, you can."

"Thank you, Scott. I'll do my best to justify your belief in me. If only there was some lead we could follow. These people seem to have vanished without trace – along with Thunderbird Four." She paused for a moment, an uncharacteristic look of frustration appearing just for a moment before she composed herself. "Now then, perhaps you would all be good enough to tell me again what happened."

For the next half an hour everyone retold their stories. Penny listened intently, occasionally making notes in a pink leather notebook.

"So," she said once everyone had finished. "Our enemies planned this well. But even so, they couldn't have succeeded without technology which appears to be equal to or even better than International Rescue's."

She couldn't quite keep the note of surprise out of her voice, even as she registered how embarrassed Brains was looking. She knew that the man was taking this personally, feeling he'd failed IR. Scott had told her of the family's attempts to disabuse him of the notion, but nothing anyone could say had done any good – Brains still felt responsible.

The engineer said nothing, leaving it to Jeff to comment,

"Well they certainly can't match us when it comes to marine technology, otherwise they wouldn't need Thunderbird Four."

"Brains and I have no idea who might be involved," John said. "There aren't that many people we know of who are capable of this, and those we've considered are all above board. We can't come up with any suspects for you, Penny. I'm sorry."

"That's a shame," Penny said. "There was no evidence left at the complex or on the research station?"

"Nothing," Scott told her. "No fingerprints, no forensic evidence at all. Our agents and the WASP guys went through both locations and came up with nothing. The bullet which hit Virg doesn't give us any leads either."

"Any ideas, Penny?" Jeff asked. "Have we missed anything which might help?"

The woman was silent for a while before sighing and shaking her head. It clearly pained her to have to admit that she had nothing else to suggest. "I'm afraid it's a waiting game, Jeff. There's been no ransom demand, therefore it seems that these people want Thunderbird Four's technology. Once they've got what they need, things might start to move again. Perhaps something will come on the market in a few months time which will lead us back to them."

"We can't wait that long," Virgil told her. "Anyway, we can't give up on finding Four."

Gordon whispered his thanks to his brother even as his father turned to face him.

"We won't give up, son, of course we won't. We can't afford for any of our technology to get into the wrong hands. But let's not forget that we have a second problem. It might take several weeks to get to the bottom of this and we need to decide what to do about International Rescue in the meantime. We can't operate properly without a submarine. What if there's a callout and we can't respond? I'm sorry to say it, but we need to consider building a replacement."

Gordon exploded just as everyone knew he would. "Dad, you can't! We need to get Four back. We can't just go out and build another one. It won't be the same."

"I know, Gordon. But we need to face facts. Even if we do manage to find Thunderbird Four, she won't be any good to us if she's been torn apart. Lives may well be lost while we're trying to find her, perhaps more if we have to take more time to rebuild her. Time isn't on our side here. Brains, how long would it take to build a new sub?"

"A-approximately six w-weeks," the engineer informed him. "I-if we can g-get everything we n-need quickly. W-we have p-plenty of spare p-parts here already."

"I'll put the job on priority," Jeff decided. "Tracy Industries' factories can produce most of the components, the rest we'll have to order in. John, get on it, will you? Brains can give you a list of what we need."

"Sure, Dad," John said, a little uncertainly given Gordon's expression of devastation.

"Come on, Gordon," Scott said. "I know how you feel. We'd all be the same if any of our 'birds had been lost. But Dad's right, we've got to get back into action as quickly as we can. We can't just sit around waiting for something to turn up."

"I know that!" Gordon told him. "I want us fully operational again. I don't want to be sitting around doing nothing while the rest of you are training and working on your 'birds. But I don't have to like it. I don't want another sub. It won't be the same."

Aware that he was being irrational and not caring, he sat back down again, hurriedly apologising to Virgil as he knocked against his injured shoulder.

"Gordon, you'll have to work with Brains on this," Jeff told him as Grandma jumped up to check on Virgil. "I know you'll never admit to any failings where Four is concerned, but if there _is_ anything which you feel could be improved upon, now's the time to bring it up."

Gordon said nothing. In his mind his 'bird was perfect and he just wanted her back. The thought of her lying in pieces somewhere was more than he could bear.

There was an uncomfortable silence for a moment before Grandma decided enough was enough. "Virgil, let's get you back to your room. Scott, dear, why don't you take a stroll along the beach with Penelope before dinner?"

"What a lovely idea, Mrs Tracy," Penny said, getting to her feet and accepting the arm Scott held out to her. Ignoring the smirks on John and Virgil's faces, they left the lounge.

"Matchmaking, Grandma?" John asked amusedly.

Grandma just smiled.

* * *

><p>Whilst Virgil went back to bed and Gordon, under protest, accompanied an apologetic Brains to the lab to look over the specs for Thunderbird Four, Scott and Penny wandered along the beach, eventually stopping to rest on some rocks which Scott swept free of sand before Penny sat down.<p>

"You look tired," he said, surveying her carefully in the bright sunlight.

"This latest mission has proved somewhat troublesome," she admitted. "Plus I was so worried when I heard about everything that's been happening here. I'm glad Virgil's getting better."

"Me too," Scott said with feeling. "I can't believe someone's finally got hold of one of the 'birds. And I'd never have expected Four to be the one to go."

"I suppose you thought One would be the target," Penny smiled.

Scott couldn't help looking proud as he considered his 'bird's merits. "Well it's got all Brains' best technology. Although I suppose Two would be worth taking as well, especially with a pod. Three and Five aren't exactly practical targets, not out in space. Although after this I can't help wondering if even they might be vulnerable. I mean, what if these people don't just want a submarine? There's plenty of standard IR technology on her that they could put to use elsewhere. They've got a couple of watches too. It's a shame they haven't tried to use them, we could have traced them that way. They must still be using those jammers ... You know, Penny, I can't help wondering if we'll ever find them."

"We'll find them, Scott," Penny promised. "Perhaps in a week or so I'll be free to work on this full-time."

"You haven't told me much about this mission," Scott said.

"It's confidential," Penny informed him.

"Secret service missions usually are," he agreed. "Not even a hint?"

Penny smiled. "Not even a hint. I -" She broke off as her phone rang. Glancing down at the number she stood up and moved away from Scott with an apology. He watched as she walked towards the sea, deliberately keeping her voice low. Something to do with her other job, he presumed.

A few minutes later Penny returned.

"I'm terribly sorry, Scott. Would you mind if we returned to the house? One of my contacts has sent me some information and I really do need to look at it."

"Sure. I'd better check on Gordon and Brains anyway."

They made their way back to the house, pausing for a moment to watch as Alan approached the island and brought the family jet safely in to land.

* * *

><p>Twenty minutes later, after checking in with Tin-Tin and his father, the youngest Tracy bounded into the lounge showing off a perfect, gleaming smile, much to Grandma's delight. As worried as she was about International Rescue, she was just glad to finally have all her family in one piece and back home again.<p>

"Hi, Penny," Alan said, pleased to see the aristocrat again.

Penny looked up from the table where she'd been studying some files. "Hello, Alan, dear. How are you feeling now?"

"Absolutely fine," he told her, wandering across. "Any progress" he asked, indicating the papers in front of her.

Penny was about to inform him that she was working on her MI5 project, when Alan suddenly reached out, knocking her hand out of the way without any apology as he grabbed a photograph which was clipped to a folder.

"_Penny!_ You're wonderful! How did you find him? Who is he?"

It was rare that Penny was lost for words, rarer still that an expression of utter bewilderment crossed her face, but that was the situation now. For a moment she could do nothing except stare open-mouthed at Alan, trying to work out if he'd just said what she thought he'd said.

As Grandma hurried over, Alan finally tore his gaze away from the photograph and registered Penny's expression. He waved the photo frantically at her. "He was in the pod. He was the one who gave all the orders."

Penny made an unladylike snatch at the photo. It showed a group of men in dinner jackets posing somewhat awkwardly for the camera, cigars and brandy glasses clasped in their hands.

"Which one?" she finally managed to ask.

Alan pointed. "That one. Penny, you _did_ know this was one of the men, didn't you?"

She shook her head, still staring at the picture. "Alan, are you sure?" she whispered.

"I'm not likely to forget the face of the man who had me beaten up," he pointed out. "But if you didn't know it was him, why did you have his picture?"

Grandma had alerted the rest of the family to this sudden development and now they began to arrive in the lounge, crowding round full of questions, Gordon the loudest of them all. Finally Jeff called them to order, pointing out that things would be a lot easier if they all sat down and let Penny talk without interruption.

Once John was on-line and everyone was settled, Penny began her explanation.

"I know I can rely on you all to keep this to yourselves," she said, looking round at them. "I was called in by MI5 to investigate the death of its former chief. As you may have heard, Randolph Pemberton was found dead two weeks ago. The cause of death has officially been stated as a heart attack, but in reality he was poisoned. There are any number of suspects – he made a great many enemies during his time in office – but there are a few who stand out. One is this gentleman, a spy who it seems may have been a double agent." She indicated the man standing on the far left of the photograph. "I've been searching for him – he disappeared after Randolph's death. It seems likely he had some involvement... Anyway, the last time he and Randolph were seen together in public was at this party thrown by Sir Reuben McAllister."

"The armaments guy?" Jeff asked.

"Yes. Do you know him, Jeff?"

"No, not personally. I try not to have anything to do with men like him. There's nothing noble about selling weapons to the highest bidder."

"I agree," Penny said. "But he was once part of MI5. He and Randolph worked closely together for years."

Gordon shuffled impatiently in his seat. "Penny, never mind the others, who's the guy Alan recognised?"

"I'm getting to that, Gordon. The man Alan has identified is Sir Reuben's nephew, Freddy. He works for his uncle. The company has produced some of the most effective weapons the world has seen over the past ten years. In addition, they supply everything else the military might need, including vehicles: planes, tanks..."

"Helicopters," Scott continued.

"And now submarines," Gordon finished, his voice low as he wondered how a modified version of Four could be used in combat.

This pronouncement was followed by a lengthy and animated discussion as Scott, Alan and Gordon insisted on leaving right away to capture Freddy McAllister and take back Thunderbird Four. Virgil wanted to go too, and it was all that Grandma and Tin-Tin could do to hold him back.

"Sit down!" Jeff's loud voice finally cut through the noise of everyone shouting at once. "All of you! No one's going anywhere, not until we've got the full story. Penny, where are we likely to find this man?"

"I can have my contacts locate him easily enough," Penny said. "But it might not be so easy to capture him, Jeff. Don't forget about the technology these people already have – and their willingness to hurt anyone who gets in their way." She glanced over at Virgil as she said this. "Sir Reuben's team are based on an island in the Atlantic, but we have to assume it will be heavily guarded, especially if he has Thunderbird Four there."

"He must have," Gordon insisted. "Where else is he going to dock Four? Come on, Penny. We can be there in a couple of hours. It could all be over and done with by morning."

"Gordon, he has other research facilities, plus he might simply have stolen Four to order. She might be in the hands of some unscrupulous government by now. We can't just go rushing in. We need to know more."

"But-"

"Calm down, Gordon," Jeff ordered. "Penny's right, son. As much as I'd like to mount an attack and bring Four home, we have to assume that it's not going to be that simple. We need to know more before we act. Scott, what do you think?"

Scott sighed. His father was clearly right, but that didn't make it any easier to voice his agreement. Like Gordon, he wanted to charge in and sort things out before IR's technology fell into the hands of those who would use it to hurt and threaten. But he forced himself to look at it rationally. They had no way of knowing for sure if Four was on McAllister's island, plus, if the helicopters he'd encountered were anything to go by, the place was probably highly defended. Any attempt to force their way onto the island was likely to be met with resistance. They couldn't risk just barging in. As his father had said, they'd have to think this through carefully.


	12. Chapter 12

_Thanks to everyone who reviewed, especially Sunny and Whirlgirl since I can't reply personally. There are a few references to events in 'Perfect Cousin' and 'A Little R&R' in this chapter - hope you like it. Bee_

Chapter Twelve

Penny immediately set to work making phone calls, trying to find out all she could about Sir Reuben and his nephew. She quickly came to realise that there was a lot to learn about the older man, yet most of the people she spoke to seemed reluctant to say anything meaningful over a telephone line just in case someone might be listening in. Unable to inform them that the IR equipment she was using was probably the most secure in the world, she finally decided that the personal touch was needed. Secrets and rumours would be related much more readily in private conversation - though there would be no solid evidence to back up the words and the speaker would more than likely deny any conversation had ever taken place. Such was the murky world of MI5. Less than an hour after Alan's identification of Freddy McAllister, Penny and Scott set off for London in Thunderbird One, promising to return just as soon as they had some useful information.

John was kept busy in the meantime, putting together all the facts he could gather regarding Sir Reuben and his company, RMC. Jeff directed Gordon to help him, his son's pacing and muttering quickly beginning to grate. So, whilst Gordon trawled the internet for the more readily available information, John began a search which was less ethical but a lot more likely to produce useful results. It wasn't the first time he'd hacked into MI5's files, and it probably wouldn't be the last. That part was easy. His attempts to get into RMC's systems were less successful however. It wasn't often that John had to admit defeat in something like this, but he was rapidly coming to the conclusion that now might be one of those times. If he'd needed any further proof that McAllister's people were good, he'd got it – their system was practically impregnable.

Alan had been given John's original task of ordering and tracking the parts for the new Thunderbird Four, Jeff overriding Gordon's protests that they'd soon have the original back. Gordon might be blinded by the affection he felt towards his 'bird, but Jeff wasn't. He wasn't sure he even wanted the craft back on Tracy Island, not when she'd almost certainly been compromised.

Grandma finally got her way and, with Jeff backing her up this time, ushered a tired but protesting Virgil back to bed...

By the time Penny and Scott returned some twenty-four hours later, a large dossier of information had been put together. Everyone gathered in the lounge to go over what they'd learned – and to try to come up with some plan for getting Thunderbird Four back. Brains was dragged out of the lab by Gordon, who seemed to be determined to do all he could to slow down the process of building a new sub.

Finally, when everyone was assembled, Penny began to speak.

"It was certainly worth my while returning to London. Of course, a lot of what I've been told is off the record, but it gives quite an insight into Sir Reuben. It seems his reputation has become somewhat tarnished over the years."

"He's an arms dealer," Jeff pointed out. "What do you expect?"

"Yes, Jeff," Penny smiled patiently before continuing. "But apparently Randolph Pemberton, the former MI5 chief, believed he might have given away one or two military secrets before leaving the service, though nothing was ever proven. It seems he was prevented from investigating on the express orders of the then Prime Minister. Randolph suspected Sir Reuben might have some kind of hold over her. By the time she'd left office RMC was up and running and Sir Reuben was out of reach."

"So why did your old boss go to his party?" Scott asked, remembering the photograph which had alerted them to Freddy McAllister's identity in the first place.

"Randolph never gave up, even after he retired. He kept in contact in the hope he'd one day discover something useful. There's no reason to believe he made any progress..."

"But now he's dead," Gordon said slowly. "Murdered..."

"Yes, although the double agent I spoke of before is still our most likely suspect. I don't really believe there's a connection, but I've convinced MI5 that Sir Reuben is worth looking into. Naturally I insisted on being assigned to the investigation, which means I can work for International Rescue as well, now."

"So what are we going to do?" Gordon asked. "Can you get a team ready to hit the island, Penny?"

Penny smiled. "If only it were that simple, Gordon. The one thing I couldn't do was inform MI5 of my link to International Rescue. I said nothing about the theft of Thunderbird Four so there's no reason to raid the island as far as the authorities are concerned. Not until I discover something more concrete at any rate."

"Penny's right," Jeff said. "It's been hard enough to throw WASP off the scent. If John and Gordon hadn't called in favours left, right and centre, the loss of Four would be all over the news. We've been lucky to keep it quiet all this time. We can't afford for anyone else to know about it – or for Penny's connection to us to become widely known."

"So we're right back where we started," Gordon said. "Dad, we have to find a way onto that island."

"I agree," Jeff said. "But we need to be subtle, Gordon."

"Yeah, Gords. 'Subtle' means-"

"Shut up, Alan!"

"Boys!" Grandma quickly restored order. "Penelope, how do you intend to get into that place? You can hardly turn up and ask to look around and if it's as well-guarded as you seem to think you won't be able to sneak in."

"I'm sure that between us we can think of something," Penny told her. "Now then, perhaps we should get to know our enemy a little better. Sir Reuben and his nephew aren't the only ones we should be looking out for. I have some video footage which you might like to see."

She nodded to Alan who flipped a switch to activate the vid-screen and they watched as Sir Reuben walked into an elevator, pushing ahead of the young woman accompanying him.

"Not the most chivalrous of men," Grandma commented, trying to ignore her grandsons' appreciative whispers as they admired the man's companion.

"Indeed," Penny agreed. "Sir Reuben has always had a somewhat over-inflated sense of his own importance. This was taken by security cameras at the Ritz six months ago. He was there to negotiate an arms deal."

As the elevator ascended the man on the screen began discussing the customers they were about to meet. But when the girl began to speak, Virgil suddenly exclaimed,

"I've heard that voice before! She's the one who cleared me for landing."

"And the one that shot you," Alan pointed out, just in case his brother had forgotten.

"She had such a nice voice," Virgil said a little sadly. "Just a hint of a French accent..." He sighed, wondering why he never met any nice girls these days.

"Virg, she shot you in the back," Scott reminded him. "Get over it."

"Quite," Penny agreed. "This girl used to be one of MI5's most capable agents until she went to work for Sir Reuben. Presumably he pays better. As for her accent, Virgil, it's all for show. She's no more French than I am. Her code name's Sahara, but she's really plain Sarah Smith from the East End of London."

"So she really sounds like Parker?" Alan asked.

"Indeed." Penny watched as a second video clip began. "Now this is another one of Sir Reuben's employees, his chief engineer - a very highly-respected man in his field."

"Like Brains? You know, this whole set-up is kind of like us. Billionaire, genius, secret island..." Alan couldn't help laughing.

"They're the anti-us, Al," Gordon agreed. "What's his name, Penny?" He indicated the man in the white lab coat who was showing off some kind of missile.

But Penny didn't get a chance to provide the answer. Instead it was Brains who spoke up.

"M-Marcus Iv-Ivins. W-we were at C-Cambridge together."

"You know him?" Jeff asked. "Brains, could this be a way to get to them?"

Aware that everyone, most noticeably Gordon, was staring eagerly at him, clearly hoping he could simply call up an old friend and waltz onto the island to sort everything out, Brains shook his head, telling them about the job offer he'd refused. He pulled up the emails for Jeff to see.

"Well I'm glad you turned him down, Brains," his employer smiled. "Although it would have made things easier if you hadn't been quite so emphatic in your refusal. There's no way we can make it look as if you've changed your mind, is there?"

Brains blushed and, stammering even more than usual, explained about the bullying. "I-I can't b-believe h-he ever thought I'd a-accept."

Gordon insisted that Brains could still pretend to have had second thoughts. The genius swallowed nervously, glancing across at Ivins' image on the vid-screen before agreeing that he could give it a go. However, it was clear to all that he wasn't comfortable with the idea. Jeff cursed his niece once more for the way her actions had shattered Brains' confidence. He glanced around and saw the same feelings reflected in the eyes of everyone except Gordon. His mother shook her head and he had to agree with her. Brains simply wasn't up to a mission like this.

"I'm not prepared to risk losing you, Brains," he announced. "We need you here to build us a new submarine." Cutting off Gordon's protests with a pointed look, he turned back to Penny. "What else can you tell us?"

Virgil sat back thoughtfully, tuning out the conversation of the others as an idea began to take shape.

Fifteen minutes later, once Penny had finished and John and Gordon had outlined their findings, everyone began thrashing out ideas. They were all in agreement – they had to find Thunderbird Four and bring down McAllister and his team and, in order to do that, they had to get onto Sir Reuben's island.

"What do you think, Virg?"

Virgil jumped at Scott's question. He hadn't been listening, wondering if the idea he'd had would really work.

"Well, I did wonder..." He trailed off nervously. There was silence for a moment as he refused to meet anyone's eye, taking a sudden interest in the patch of floor in front of him.

"Come on, son," Jeff finally said. "What were you going to say?"

Virgil looked up uncertainly.

"Tell us, Virg," Gordon pleaded. "The longer it takes us to think of something the more damage is being done to my 'bird."

It was his grandmother's smile of encouragement that got Virgil talking.

"Well," he finally began. "Obviously we don't want to send Brains out alone. But what if one of us went with him?"

"How are you going to swing that?" Alan asked as Brains smiled slightly. The genius had been terrified at the thought of taking on a mission by himself and his relief when Jeff had rejected the idea had been overwhelming. But he still hated himself for it. He felt responsible for everything that had happened, no matter what anyone said to dissuade him. If he could do something to put things right he would. Catching Virgil's eye he nodded slightly and the middle Tracy carried on.

"What if word got out that one of us had decided to leave Tracy Industries and set up their own business – military hardware, maybe? If someone decided to strike out on their own it's possible that they'd persuade Brains to go with them, right? Nobody would have believed it in the past, but right now people would probably accept that the family is falling apart and that Brains and Dad aren't getting along. You know, after Beth and all that... "

There was silence for a moment as everyone reflected on Virgil's words. He was right, Jeff's reputation wasn't what it once was and the press had been full of speculation as to the state of his relationships with his sons and with Tracy Island's resident genius.

"The press were pretty hard on you, Dad," John said thoughtfully. "Brains too. Anyone would believe that things haven't been going well for us."

"So if one son was going to leave the family business, now would be the perfect time," Scott agreed.

Jeff said nothing. Like Virgil he too had taken a sudden interest in the floor. Virgil watched him hesitantly, knowing that his words had sparked off memories of a time they'd all been doing their best to forget. He'd seen the flash of pain in his father's eyes before he'd looked away and known that the fact that the idea had come from him had just made things worse. If any son had been likely to walk away from the business and the family itself, it was Virgil.

Jeff finally raised his head, catching Virgil's eye for a moment and looking steadily at him before nodding. "You're right," he said, pushing aside his feelings and focusing on the fact that they finally had a workable idea. "The bad press we had a while back might work in our favour now. If we can convince these people that the family is breaking up because of what happened, then perhaps they'll accept one of you as a prospective business partner, especially if you tell them you're bringing Brains with you. It would certainly give you the chance to learn more about them. But you'd still have to find a way onto their island."

"We could say Brains wants to leave here but he doesn't want to go anywhere where he's going to be surrounded by people," Gordon suggested, with an apologetic glance at Brains who had flinched at the comment, a clear sign that there was some degree of truth in it.

"So another island would be perfect," Penny said. "It could work. We'll need to plan carefully, of course, but I think it's the best chance we've got."

"You don't think they might wonder at the timing?" Grandma asked. "They steal Thunderbird Four then five minutes later along comes a new business partner who's going to want to know all about the company and its base. It's a bit of a coincidence, don't you think?"

"It's certainly a risk," Jeff told her. "But they made contact with Brains long before they took Four. They've got no reason to connect any of the Tracys or Brains with International Rescue. Tracy Industries has steered clear of marine technology so there's no way to link Four to the company either. I think we'll be alright."

"So who goes?" Virgil asked. "Alan, they've seen you. I guess my shoulder rules me out even though I think they only saw the back of my head. So Scott should-"

"Are you crazy Virg?" Gordon interrupted. "I'm going. She's my 'bird."

"Sit down, Gordon," Jeff said wearily. "There's no way of knowing if anyone saw you on that research base. You can't go."

"But-"

"I said _sit down_. I'm sorry, son. I know you want to go but I can't risk it."

"You don't trust me to keep myself under control, do you?" Gordon asked bitterly.

It was Scott who replied, saving his father from agreeing with his fourth-born and sparking another argument. "Gords, Dad's right. You know he is. Let me work my way in and as soon as I can find a way I'll get you onto the island and you can personally rescue Four."

"Why you?" John asked before Gordon could say anything in reply. "They didn't see me either – and frankly Scott, I'm far more devious than you'll ever be. Dad, I'd like to go."

Jeff considered this, but before he could agree, Penny spoke.

"John, darling, I have to agree you'd do a fabulous job. But there is one more thing to take into consideration before you make up your mind."

"What's that, Penny?"

"I have no intention of being left behind. This is a joint operation, remember - International Rescue _and_ the British Secret Service. Whoever goes, I go with them."

"How are you going to do that?" Alan asked. "Pretend to be Brains' assistant?"

"No, darling," Penny said, "I don't think there's any need for anything too complicated here. But I don't believe that after walking out on his family the errant Tracy son would want to leave his wife behind too."

She couldn't help smiling as she registered the reactions of the others in the room.

"Definitely Scott then," Gordon laughed, catching Virgil's eye and sending his brother into a similar bout of hysterics to the one which had overtaken him.

"Hey, not so fast," Scott said nervously, backing away slightly from Penny who was sitting next to him on the couch. "I know what you guys are thinking but actually I think John might -"

"No, Scott," John told him, grinning widely himself. "You're definitely the man for this mission."

"But-"

"You and Penny have done something similar before," Jeff agreed, barely hiding his own smile. "Penny's right, it's the best way to get her onto that island with you."

Scott had to admit he was the best man for the job. He was confident he and Penny could pull it off and recover Thunderbird Four. But whether it would be worth the months of ridicule that would inevitably follow, he just didn't know.

"Just one thing, Penny - won't this Sahara girl recognise you?" Taking pity on his eldest, Jeff tried to get back to business.

"I've never met her," Penny said. "We don't have social events in the Secret Service, Jeff. She might know me by reputation but with a different name and accent and a change of hair colour I'm sure there won't be any problem."

"Very well then," Jeff said, looking around at the others and seeing nothing but enthusiasm for the plan – even Grandma was smiling, though he thought that might have more to do with the thought of Scott and Penny pretending to be married, since usually the prospect of one of her boys heading into danger filled her with dread. "That's settled. The tables are turning boys – we're fighting back."


	13. Chapter 13

_A big thank you to everyone who's reviewed. To those I can't reply to personally: Rachel, thanks for the reviews. I'm really glad you liked R&R – it was nice to do something a bit different after a few angsty stories. Sunny, lots of Scott and Penny in this chapter, hope you like it. Whirlgirl, you're right, Penny wouldn't be happy with anyone other than Scott. One day though I'm going to write a John story._

_The events in this chapter came as a bit of a surprise to me. I'd planned something completely different but the characters – my money's on Penny – had other ideas..._

Chapter Thirteen

Over the next few days a plan began to emerge. The biggest problem had been engineering a meeting with one of the McAllisters. Penny and John had continued to research the family and had eventually come to the conclusion that if anyone was to be taken in by their deception it would be Freddy.

"He failed the entry exam for MI5," Penny told the others. "His uncle was none too impressed. I gather he's not particularly fond of the boy. But he was close to his brother and it seems family loyalty won out so Freddy got a job as Sir Reuben's assistant."

"So he's the weakest link?" Gordon asked.

"That's right, Gordon. But the problem of how to get to him still remains. We can hardly just walk up to him and ask to be invited onto Sir Reuben's island."

It was John who found a way in. Totally infuriated at his failure to hack into RMC's computer systems he'd finally changed tack and programmed Five to pick up any mention of the McAllisters in phone calls and radio transmissions. Five days later he got something.

"Freddy's going to Las Vegas next week," he announced, his satisfaction at finally gaining a lead written all over his face. "This could be our chance."

Penny considered this for a while before a sly smile spread across her face. "I believe you might be right, John."

So it was that five days later, following some frantic preparations by all concerned, most notably Penny and Scott, the family jet left Tracy Island. On board were Scott, Penny, Jeff and Virgil. Brains remained at home, to be brought in later once Scott was sure Freddy had taken the bait. The eldest Tracy had his doubts – to his mind the plan seemed bordering on the insane, plus it depended on his role-playing abilities even more than Penny's – and that was never an area in which he'd been comfortable. Not for the first time he wished he'd managed to get John to take his place – but Penny's face when he'd suggested it had immediately had him frantically backtracking.

"Having second thoughts?" Virgil asked from the co-pilot's seat. Not that his shoulder allowed him to do any flying, but it would be his last chance to talk to his brother for a while.

Scott shrugged. "Would it make any difference?"

Virgil glanced back into the cabin where Penny was immersing herself in her new identity, taking this last chance to practise her accent on his father. He had to admit she looked completely different with dark hair, especially when her clothes were so very different to the ones she usually wore. He'd never seen her in jeans before. Judging by the newness of the pair she wore today, she'd probably never owned a pair before either.

He reached back and closed the cockpit door.

"At least you just have to be yourself," he pointed out. "Penny's got the hard job here. Do you think she can carry it off?"

"The Kansas accent?"

"Yeah. I don't know about you but I still think she loses it now and again."

"She'll be fine." Scott hoped so anyway. Penny's usual repertoire of accents hadn't been of any use here. Sahara would see another French accent as suspicious and any imitation of Parker would likewise be hard to carry off in front of the genuine East End article. He found himself worrying about Sir Reuben's right-hand woman more and more as he came to learn more about her. He was just thankful she wasn't going to be in Vegas.

"John's made the reservation," Virgil said. "Same hotel as Freddy so you shouldn't have any problem bumping into him."

"I know."

Virgil looked speculatively at Scott for a moment. Gordon had incurred the full wrath of their brother the previous evening after one too many wedding jokes. Whilst Scott had initially been relieved that the aquanaut was feeling cheerful enough to want to wind him up, he'd only been able to take so much, especially once Gordon had begun teasing him about his previous 'relationship' with Penny. Virgil had no wish to be on the receiving end of his brother's anger, but he couldn't resist a little probing of his own.

"No worries about sharing a room with Penny?"

"No."

"Sure? It's not like last time remember. You'll be together the whole time."

"Stop it, Virg."

"Stop what?"

"Trying to find out what's going on between me and Penny."

"So something _is_ going on?"

"I didn't say that."

"You didn't deny it either."

"Virgil, stop it."

"You know you can always confide in me, Scott. If I knew the truth I could help you out when Gordon teases you. You know he's going to make your life unbearable after this."

"He won't if he wants his 'bird back."

"Yeah, but once he's got her back he'll be on you all the time. Come on, Scott. You can tell me."

"Virg, if you're that desperate to know the details go and ask Penny!"

Virgil looked back at the cabin door dubiously before fixing a narrow-eyed stare upon his brother.

"So there _were _details?"

"Enough! Honestly, you're more annoying than Gordon sometimes!"

"But-"

Scott gave up, turning on the auto-pilot and instructing Virgil to keep an eye on the controls. He got to his feet and escaped into the cabin.

"Hi there, Scott," Penny said with a smile.

Scott still couldn't quite get used to the transformation. It took him a moment to come up with an appropriate response. "Hey, er, Lola."

"Too hesitant, Scott," Virgil called from the cockpit.

"Why'd you bring him?" Scott growled at his father.

"Giving you a hard time, is he?" Jeff asked. "Well at least it's stopped him moping over his piano and his 'bird. Tell you what, you stay and chat to Penny – sorry, to _Lola_ - I'll fly for a while."

With that he left them to it.

An hour later they touched down in New York. A car was waiting to take Jeff and Virgil to the family's new apartment – the old one held too many unpleasant associations and Jeff had sold it just as soon as Brains had stripped it of all the IR technology he'd installed. The pair got in the car and watched as Scott and Penny headed for the terminal building. In an hour they'd be on a flight to Las Vegas and the game could begin in earnest.

* * *

><p>Freddy McAllister arrived back at his hotel after a successful session at the roulette wheel, feeling very pleased with himself. Having spent the last few days negotiating a lucrative contract to supply weapons to the Chinese army, he was enjoying a few days off. Earlier in the day he'd called Sahara to check up on things and been told that the efforts to reverse-engineer Thunderbird Four were progressing more slowly than they'd anticipated since there seemed to be several security devices built into the craft. Only that morning she'd found Marcus and Professor Franklin lying unconscious on the floor of the submarine. Apparently they'd managed to break a vial of knockout gas which had been strategically hidden in the control console, but the effects had worn off within a few hours and they were back on track. It would have been easier to put more people on it, but the fewer who knew about the Thunderbird's presence on the island the better. Even so, despite these setbacks progress was being made and the professor was still hopeful to have replicated the engine by the end of the month. Freddy hoped he was right. His cut of the proceeds from this little escapade was going to set him up for life.<p>

He stepped into the elevator and reached for the button which would close the door. But just before it slid shut a young couple dashed in, clearly having spent quite some time in the bar. The woman giggled and wound herself around the man who smiled a little smugly at Freddy before kissing her.

Freddy turned his back on them, hoping the pair weren't going to get too carried away. Pushing the appropriate button he stepped aside as the man finally broke free of the woman, leaned over and pressed the button for his own floor. He was immediately pulled back into an embrace by the woman who giggled again as she nuzzled his ear.

"Oh honey," she said between kisses. "I can't believe I'm really going to be Mrs Scott Tracy."

"I know," the man replied. "I can't believe it either."

The elevator came to a halt and the couple got out, kissing again before heading off to their room hand in hand. As the door slid closed again Freddy watched them, wondering why the name 'Tracy' seemed so familiar. It wasn't until he got to his own room that he remembered all the scandal which had hit Tracy Industries and its founder. That led him onto thinking of Marcus's attempts to entice the company's chief engineer over to RMC. His uncle hadn't mentioned it for a while – the theft of Thunderbird Four had taken all his attention lately – but Freddy knew full well that he would eventually remember and would want to know why no progress had been made. Freddy decided to keep an eye on Scott Tracy. Maybe he'd get the chance to talk to this Hackenbacker man if he came to the wedding. Even if he didn't, it wouldn't hurt to get to know Tracy – if he could ever disentangle him from his fiancée long enough to talk business. Freddy was a firm believer in cultivating useful friends – the richer and more powerful, the better.

* * *

><p>The next morning Scott called John with a progress report. It was a somewhat awkward conversation as far as Scott was concerned – partly because his brother was taking an unnecessary interest in the previous night's sleeping arrangements and partly because Scott was using Penny's compact for the call, having left his IR watch at home in case Freddy recognised it, already having two in his possession. It was one of those minor details that had nearly been overlooked. If Tin-Tin hadn't suddenly realised just as he was leaving, he and Penny could have been in trouble. Brains was making a new communicator for him, but until it arrived he'd be reliant on Penny's compact and his phone.<p>

The usual procedure would have been to break into Freddy's room and bug it, but since he had so much technology at his disposal it had been decided not to risk doing so, just in case he discovered what was going on. So things had to be done the old-fashioned way. Scott and Penny had been sitting in the hotel lobby drinking coffee for over an hour before Freddy appeared and headed towards the casino.

"Come on," Penny said, getting to her feet and holding her hand out to Scott. "Let's go and make friends with Mr McAllister."

Freddy had taken his place beside the roulette wheel. Scott came to stand beside him, nodding at the man when he caught his eye. Penny clung onto Scott, giggling excitedly every time she placed a bet for him, making the occasional comment about how nice it was not to have to worry about running out of money.

After half an hour Freddy decided his luck wasn't in that morning. He left the table and made his way to the slot machines, accepting a drink from a waitress as he did so. Penny briefly caught Scott's eye then went to walk past him, catching her heel in the carpet as she did so and stumbling into him. As she'd hoped, his drink went all over him. Apologising profusely she pulled out a handkerchief and mopped his shirt, calling Scott over as she did so.

"What have you been up to now?" he asked.

"Scott, honey, I'm just so clumsy. This poor man. Look at him, he's all wet."

Freddy was never one to hold a grudge - not towards a pretty girl anyway – and he laughed at Penny's offer to buy him a new shirt.

"Don't worry about it. It was an accident."

"But your shirt's ruined,"

"It's no problem. Really."

"Well at least let me get you another drink." She'd headed towards a nearby waitress before Freddy could say anything.

Scott held out his hand. "Scott Tracy. Sorry about Lola. She's kinda awkward but she's cute so..." He smiled.

Freddy shook Scott's hand and smiled in return. "She certainly is. Scott Tracy, huh? Tracy Industries?"

"That's the one."

"Pleased to meet you. I'm Frederick McAllister. Chief Executive of RMC."

Scott pretended to look mystified. "I don't think I know the company."

"Military hardware," Freddy told him. "I guess you don't have much to do with all that."

Scott sighed. "No, my father refuses to get involved in anything like that. You'd think being ex Air-Force he'd be all for it, but it's the one area he avoids. Pity – one of our guys has some great ideas, we'd make a fortune from them."

"What kind of ideas?" Freddy asked, immediately interested.

Penny returned with drinks for all of them. Scott took his and Freddy's and smiled at her. "Honey, why don't you go and play for a while. Mr McAllister and I are going to talk business."

"Call me Freddy," Freddy said, as the girl rolled her eyes at the thought of 'business', then hugged Scott enthusiastically when he pulled out a roll of cash and handed it to her.

"You're a lucky guy," Freddy said, watching as Penny walked away.

"I sure am," Scott said. "And later today I'll be even luckier. We're getting married."

Freddy offered his congratulations. "A Vegas wedding?" he asked. "I'd have thought you'd want to make a big deal of it."

"My father doesn't approve of Lola," Scott told him. "He doesn't think she's good enough to marry a Tracy. You'd think he'd like a girl from his old hometown, but no. He's so damn -" Scott broke off and laughed a little awkwardly. "Sorry, Freddy, you don't want to hear all about my family troubles."

Freddy wondered if Jeff Tracy believed Lola was after Scott's money. Her eyes had certainly lit up at the sight of all the cash Scott had been carrying. Still, thinking of his own relationship with an overbearing relative, he couldn't help sympathising with Scott, whatever the truth of the matter.

For a few minutes they talked shop, Freddy deciding that the few hints Scott was prepared to give regarding the new technology were definitely worth following up at a later date, especially as it seemed Marcus's old rival was the man who'd come up with the ideas.

"Well," Scott said finally, "I guess I'd better find Lola. We don't want to be late. I'm lucky she didn't want a big wedding, but she's a sweet girl, she's happy with a small ceremony."

"No guests then?" Freddy asked. He'd guessed that would be the case but he was still disappointed at seeing the prospect of meeting Hiram Hackenbacker disappear.

"I've asked two of my brothers to act as witnesses," Scott told him. "But to be honest, as long as Lola and I get married I don't care who's at the wedding."

"Oh honey," came a squeal from behind them. "You're so sweet. But shouldn't we be getting ready? The boys will be here any minute."

"You're right," Scott said. "Come on, let's get moving. See you around, Freddy."

"Good luck," Freddy said, thinking Scott was probably going to need it. He turned his attention back to the slot machines, hoping his run of bad luck was about to change.

Freddy emerged into the hotel lobby an hour later ready for some lunch. His attention was caught by Scott in a tuxedo, clearly ready for the wedding. He couldn't help wondering why his new friend looked so agitated as he talked frantically into his phone. He made to turn away but at that moment Scott spotted him.

"Freddy!" he yelled, cutting off his call and racing across. "I've got a real problem here. I don't suppose you've got a spare half hour have you?"

"What's wrong?"

"My dumb brothers haven't arrived yet. I've got no witnesses. I've been trying to get hold of a friend but there's no answer. Could you...?"

"I'd be delighted," Freddy said, deciding that having Scott Tracy owe him a favour was well worth missing lunch for.

"Great, come on." Scott dragged him out of the entrance to the waiting car. Lola was already inside, clearly unhappy about the delay.

"Scott, we're going to be late."

"No we won't," Scott promised, sliding the glass partition open and throwing money at the driver. "This guy will get us there on time."

"Sure will, Sir," the delighted driver agreed and put his foot down, sending Scott, Penny and Freddy flying backwards as the car accelerated.

Ten minutes later they arrived at the wedding chapel. A man with a Cockney accent who'd been standing aimlessly outside was roped in as the second witness and five minutes later it was all over. The happy couple were pronounced man and wife and the invitation was made to kiss the bride. Scott was about to do so when the door was suddenly flung open and the familiar – and very angry – voice of Jeff Tracy bellowed,

"Stop this nonsense now!"


	14. Chapter 14

_A big, big thank you to everyone who reviewed the last chapter. Happy New Year everyone! Bee_

Chapter Fourteen

Scott froze at the sound of his father's voice. Stupid really, he thought to himself, it wasn't as if he hadn't been expecting it. Parker - who as far as Freddy was concerned, was just some random man who'd happened to be outside the chapel as they'd arrived and so had been bribed by Scott to act as the second witness – had been surreptitiously transmitting the wedding via a hidden camera, so Scott knew his father would have been able to time his arrival perfectly. Even so he couldn't help tensing at the prospect of what was to come. He'd been dreading this part of the plan and he knew his father had too. That was one reason why they hadn't rehearsed, deciding that a one-off performance they could put their all into would be far more effective than any carefully scripted routine. He just had to keep telling himself it was all an act...

Penny felt Scott tense and squeezed his arm reassuringly. He drew back from her and met her eyes for a moment before slowly turning to face his father. Jeff was making his up the aisle and now was just feet away from his son. Behind him came Virgil in his role as Jeff's bodyguard – though Freddy would never have recognised him from the brief view he'd had of him when he'd knocked him out. Scott thought he himself might have had to look twice if he hadn't known this was his brother. With his hair cut shorter and slicked back, dark glasses and a couple of days growth of carefully groomed stubble, Virgil looked totally different. The black suit completed the look, the bullet-proof vest Jeff had insisted he wear giving him even more bulk. The instruction was to say nothing in case Freddy recognised his voice, just to look intimidating – and Virgil was certainly managing that.

Before Scott could say anything, the minister, an elderly man who up until this point had looked slightly bored but whose eyes now glittered with excitement – he'd clearly been hoping something like this would happen one day – piped up,

"I'm sorry, Sir. The ceremony is over. Mr and Mrs Tracy are-"

He broke off, excitement turning to apprehension as Jeff turned the full force of his furious gaze onto him. "I'll, er, leave you to it then," he said as he scuttled away.

Parker pulled Freddy to one side, whispering that this looked like it was going to be fun. Freddy couldn't help agreeing, settling himself back in his chair ready for the show, only for Jeff Tracy to suddenly snap his head around to glare at the gawping pair.

"Get them out of here!" he snapped at his bodyguard. As Virgil approached them, Freddy decided reluctantly that he wasn't going to protest. He followed the minister out of the door, glancing back to see that his fellow-witness had hesitated, only to have his arm grabbed by Tracy's man in order that he could escort him out of the room.

The man wasn't deterred by this however, and just a few seconds after the door was slammed behind him he'd winked at Freddy and eased it open a fraction, sticking one eye to the gap and motioning him over. Freddy didn't need asking twice.

He could only see the back of Jeff Tracy's head, but he guessed from the way Scott had gone slightly pale that he was being subjected to the kind of look Freddy himself was so used to every time he did something to annoy his uncle. He didn't think he'd ever done something this drastic though - Tracy had looked terrifyingly angry in the brief glance Freddy had had of him.

"Father," Scott said hesitantly. "What are you doing here?"

"Alan told me," Jeff informed him. "At least one of my sons has the sense to see what's going on here."

"What's going on here," Scott said, seeming to gain in confidence as he stepped towards his father, "Is that I've just married the woman I love."

Lola wiggled the fourth finger of her left hand at Jeff, just to make the point. The smile didn't leave her face as Jeff glared at her before turning back to Scott.

"I can't believe you've been so stupid, Scott. Can't you see she's only after one thing?"

"We're in love, Dad. Money has nothing to do with it."

"You think so? You don't know anything about this girl, Scott. She could be-"

"Oh come on, Dad. You're paranoid, you know that? You think that every woman we meet is either after our money or out to steal ideas from Tracy Industries. Lola's not Beth. Just because you got taken in doesn't mean the rest of us will be."

Jeff couldn't help flinching even though he'd known that one was coming.

"This isn't about me. It's about you. How long have you known her anyway? A month?"

"Long enough to know that I want to spend the rest of my life with her."

"Oh Scott, listen to yourself. You're the last one of my sons I would have expected to do something like this. I give it six months. I just hope you had the sense to sign a pre-nup."

"We don't need one. I told you, money has nothing to do with it."

Jeff groaned. "You're a fool, Scott. Even if you're right – and I don't think for a moment you are, you could surely do better than this."

Scott took a step closer, only for Virgil to echo his movement. "Don't insult my wife. Whether you like it or not she's part of the family now."

"Really? And how do you think she'll enjoy life on Tracy Island? She'll be bored out of her mind within a month. Then what? She goes back to the city to spend your money while you're left to see how stupid you've been?"

Scott shook his head in frustration. "What makes you think we're going to live on the island? I was desperate to get away even before I met Lola. I'm sick of having you watch my every move. Don't think I'm the only one either. Virg has already walked once, remember? It wouldn't take much for him to leave for good. Alan might stick it out with Tin-Tin but as for the others, once they see how well things are going for me, they'll start to wonder why they put up with it."

"They _put up with it_ because they appreciate that they have a father who cares about them."

"Controls them, you mean."

"That's not fair. I've done everything for you boys. You'd be nothing without me, none of you. If it wasn't for my money this girl wouldn't look twice at you."

"It's not _your _money. I do a job for you, remember? If it wasn't for me and the others you'd have no business left."

Jeff laughed. "Really? How do you work that one out?"

"Have you forgotten who had to take over when you were sick?"

"You were... adequate," Jeff told him. "But no more than that. Some of those ideas you came up with..." He trailed off in clear disgust.

"Those ideas would have made us a fortune," Scott informed him, his voice rising to a shout. "You just couldn't see it could you? No, hang on, you didn't _want_ to see it. Because then you'd have to accept that we could carry on without you."

"You think so? I built this company up from nothing; it's mine and I'll run it in any way I see fit. One day you'll be in charge and then you can do what you like – and heaven help the lot of you. But that day's a long way away."

"Is it? Read the papers lately, Dad? They don't think you're anything like the man you used to be and for once they're right. I mean, look at you. A year ago you wouldn't have needed a bodyguard. But you're weak now, aren't you? You're just a bitter, twisted old man and I've had enough of being pushed around by you. I quit! I'll set up by myself then we'll see who's _adequate_."

He took an angry step towards Jeff, only for Virgil to step between them.

"Get out of my way!"

Virgil pushed him back and held him at arm's length. Scott shoved his brother away, making it look good but being careful not to jar his damaged shoulder. Virgil made to grab hold again but Jeff shook his head.

"Leave him. He doesn't have the nerve to hit me. He knows full well what I'm saying is the truth. Let's see how long he lasts without me to back him up. And as for this ridiculous marriage... Mark my words, as soon as the money runs out she'll be gone."

He turned away, only to freeze at Scott's next comment.

"You don't think I can do it do you? Well I can if I take Brains with me."

Jeff turned back. "You can't. Hackenbacker works for me." He guessed Freddy would be taking an extra-keen interest in this part of the conversation and he wasn't wrong.

"Exactly, he _works_ for you. Nothing more. How long will _you_ last without him? You might take all the credit but we all know that without him Tracy Industries wouldn't be half as successful as it is."

"Why would he want to go with you, Scott? You couldn't afford to pay him a fraction of what I do."

"It's not all about money, Dad. Can't you see that? Brains is sick of you too. If he hadn't become so damn paranoid after what went on with Beth – and let's face it, none of that would have happened if it wasn't for you being so stupid – he'd have walked months ago. He's had plenty of offers but he's too scared to make the move. He'll come along with me though, you wait and see."

"That's ridiculous," Jeff spat, but there was enough hesitancy in his voice to make Scott smile.

"We'll see. Get out of here, Dad. I don't need you anymore."

Jeff looked at him coldly. "Very well then, Scott. But don't come crawling back to me when you realise you were wrong." He turned away and, followed by Virgil, made his way out of the chapel, sweeping past Freddy and Parker without a second glance. A minute later he was gone.

"Well," Parker said, "That was h'entertaining."

Freddy said nothing, returning to the door which was now wide open, and watching Scott with calculating eyes. Hackenbacker had been out of reach, but now he thought he could see a way to get to him. Clearing his throat nervously he made his way over to where Scott was staring into space as Lola tried to comfort him. Freddy decided her protestations that she wasn't interested in his money seemed just a little half-hearted. Scott didn't seem to be listening however, having clearly taken his father's words hard.

"Couldn't help overhearing some of that," Freddy said. "Families, eh? Mine's just as bad."

Scott seemed to pull himself together, nodding as he took Lola's hand. "Sorry about that. Couldn't have happened at a worse time. Guess it's been building up for a while."

"Well, today was always going to be the start of something new," Freddy said with a smile at Lola. "Maybe it could be the start of a new business, too."

Lola shot him a grateful glance. "He's right. Come on, baby, let's not let this spoil our day. We've got a wedding to celebrate. Freddy, will you join us?"

"I'd be delighted."

A few hours later Penny, Scott and Freddy – Parker had refused the offer of dinner, as they'd previously agreed he would – had finished a lavish meal in the city's most exclusive restaurant. Scott was quiet, but Lola kept up an aimless chatter, promising Freddy that her Scotty would soon show his father what he was made of.

"Won't you, honey?" she asked, patting his hand.

"Huh? Oh, yeah, I guess so. Maybe I should call Virg, see if Dad's said anything to him. They had a big fight a while back but Dad was desperate to make it up with him once he'd calmed down."

"What about your new company?" Freddy asked. "I mean, if this Hackenbacker is all you say he is, it's a guaranteed goldmine, surely?" The last thing he wanted was for Scott to reconcile with his father.

"Yeah, maybe." Scott didn't sound particularly enthusiastic as he signalled to the waiter to bring the bill. "But setting up on my own, it's a big step. Maybe I should just bide my time, wait for Dad to retire."

"He didn't sound like he was planning on doing that anytime soon," Freddy pointed out as Scott handed over his credit card without even looking at the bill.

"He can't go on forever. I'll talk to my brothers. My grandmother will be on my side, she's always on at me to settle down with a nice girl."

Looking at Lola, Freddy guessed she wasn't exactly what Mrs Tracy had in mind. But before he could answer the waiter was back, the embarrassed look on his face telling them what had happened even before he informed Scott that his card had been refused.

Scott's confusion was evident as he took the card back. "There's some mistake," he informed the waiter. "Just let me make a call." Getting up a little unsteadily – he'd made heavy inroads into the champagne Lola had insisted on ordering, he made his way out of the restaurant.

"These things happen sometimes," Freddy commented to Lola. "I remember I once..." He trailed off, realising she wasn't listening. Instead there was a look of calculated anxiety in her eyes and once again he found himself wondering if Jeff Tracy hadn't been right.

Five minutes later Scott was back looking even more furious than he had in the chapel.

"The bastard! I can't believe he did that."

"What?" Lola shrieked. "Your father's cancelled your card? How?"

"It's a company card; he can do what he likes." Scott looked embarrassed as he looked at the bill. "Honey, I don't suppose you've got any money on you?"

It was Freddy who came to the rescue. "Allow me," he said, calling over the waiter and presenting his own card. "Call it a wedding present."

"I'll pay you back," Scott told him, though the worried look in his eyes suggested he wasn't sure when or how he was going to do that.

"Scott?" Lola didn't sound happy. "Do you mean you don't have _any _money? What about the hotel? Are we going to get back to find our suitcases out on the street?"

"I paid in advance," Scott told her. "We've got the room until the end of the week. As for money, well I've got some shares and property I can sell. They'll make enough to help me get a business off the ground. We might have to tighten our belts for a while, but we'll manage."

The prospect of _managing _clearly didn't appeal. "How long is a while?"

Scott shrugged. "I don't know. A couple of years, maybe. But we'll be okay, won't we honey? As long as we've got each other?"

"But where are we going to live?"

"I don't know. Maybe John can help me out – I know he's made some pretty sharp investments over the years. If not, we could move in with your mother..."

"My _mother_?" Lola's shriek was loud enough this time to silence the whole restaurant. "I married you to get away from my mother! I'm not going back to Kansas, Scott. Sort this out or I'm leaving you!"

"But-"

"I mean it! I'm going back to the hotel. I don't want to see you unless you've made it up with your father!"

Scott collapsed back in his chair, watching Lola as she flounced out of the restaurant. The look of despair on his face would have touched Freddy if he hadn't been busily trying to work out what he should do next. But before he could speak Lola was back.

"Honey," Scott said, getting up and holding out his arms. "I knew you wouldn't-"

"I need some money for a cab," she said coldly. "Can you manage that?"

Dumbly Scott pulled some notes out of his pocket.

"Thank you." And with that Lola was gone again. This time she didn't come back.

Scott picked up his glass and drained it before burying his head in his hands.

"Er, Scott," Freddy said a little nervously, "Maybe I can help."

Scott looked up at him. "You can? How?"

"Well, remember what you were saying about setting up a new company? You could still do that."

"Not soon enough to please Lola," he said, reaching for the champagne bottle and pouring the remnants into his glass.

"But the man you were going to bring with you, he'd make you money."

Scott laughed. "Sure, if I could afford to set him up properly. But you don't know Brains. He was always socially inept, but since last year he's become practically reclusive. Unless I can provide him with somewhere isolated to work he'll never leave Tracy Island. He'd need a state of the art lab and those things don't come cheap. I've got to face it, Freddy, Brains is out of the picture. Lola's going to leave me. I'll have to go crawling back to Dad and he'll never let me forget it."

"Not necessarily," Freddy told him. "Look, I can sympathise with what you're going through. I work for my uncle and believe me, it's not easy. He's always on my back. I'd love to set up by myself but even though I've got the funds, I don't have the expertise. You do. So if you can get this friend of yours to come in with us..."

Scott stared at him. "You'd do that?"

"Why not?"

Scott started to smile but then his face fell again. "It's a nice idea, but unless I can get Brains away quickly Dad's going to find some way to make him stay. He can be ruthless when he wants to be."

"He won't go anywhere where there are lots of people?"

"No."

"And you need the best facilities?"

"Definitely."

"Okay, how's this for a plan? My uncle has his top people working on his island in the Atlantic. I promise you the facilities are amongst the best in the world. I live there myself and trust me, it's the quietest place you could imagine. That's why I need to escape to Vegas every so often. But your Brains would be happy with that, wouldn't he?"

"Well yes, but wouldn't your uncle wonder what he was doing there?"

"We'll tell him he's a new employee," Freddy decided. "Maybe he can come up with something to keep Uncle Reuben happy, but really he'll be working for us. As soon as we've set up our own facilities we can be on our way."

"It could work," Scott said thoughtfully.

It certainly could, Freddy thought. He was pleased with himself. On the one hand he'd get Hackenbacker onto the island – and once he was there, who knew what might happen. If Marcus behaved, the man might decide he liked the place and want to stay, which would please Uncle Reuben. Even if it didn't work out, he'd have an investment in Scott's company and any designs by his genius friend were going to rake in a fortune just as they'd done for Tracy Industries. Freddy liked the thought of getting a cut of the profits. He couldn't lose, just as long as he could convince Scott to play along.

"Of course it will work," he said, calling over the waiter and ordering more champagne. "We'll make a great team, Scott. Look at all we've got in common: we're both young, good-looking, ambitious, we've both had to put up with domineering relatives who don't appreciate our abilities..."

Scott smiled. "We both live on an island." What he didn't say was that they also both had an interest in International Rescue and the Thunderbirds...

"See," Freddy smiled. "We couldn't be more perfectly matched. You and me, Scott, we'll be billionaires in our own right one day."

"Billionaires? That would show Dad."

"Of course it would. What do you say? Partners?" He held out his hand. Scott stared at it for a moment before shrugging.

"Okay, Freddy, you've got a deal."

"That's great, Scott. Why don't you go and call your friend?"

Scott looked at the watch he'd bought at the airport to replace his wrist-comm. "It's night-time back home. I'll do it later."

Freddy would have been happier if Scott had done it there and then but he didn't want to look too desperate. "Okay, later. Now then, how about we celebrate properly?"

Scott looked doubtful. "I should get back to Lola, tell her the good news."

Freddy leaned over to him. "Scott, can I give you a bit of advice? As a friend?"

"Sure."

"Leave it a while. You go running back now and you'll be under her thumb for the rest of your life. Give her time to miss you. You want her to realise what she's giving up."

"But she was really mad. What if she leaves me?"

"She won't leave," Freddy said. He was fairly confident about that. The new Mrs Tracy was going to try to persuade Scott to make things up with his father, he knew that for certain. But he couldn't risk Scott deciding to go along with it. A few more hours of male bonding were needed, he decided.

"You think so?" Scott didn't look convinced.

"I know so. I know women, Scott. She loves you, I can see it in her eyes. She'll be there waiting for you. Then you can give her the good news and everything will be fine."

"You really think she loves me?"

"Oh definitely," Freddy lied.

"I love her," Scott announced, downing another glass of champagne.

"Of course you do."

"She can come to your island too?"

"Come to the island?" Freddy asked.

"Yeah. With Brains and me. I'm not going anywhere without Lola."

Freddy had been hoping to get Brains by himself. Scott and Lola's presence was going to be hard to explain to his uncle, especially right now when they were hiding a stolen Thunderbird on the island. But he knew he had no choice in the matter.

"Okay, you're on."

Scott raised a glass to meet the one Freddy held up then sank back in his chair, suddenly exhausted. Their plan had worked. Between them, he, Brains and Penny were going to find Thunderbird Four and bring her home.


	15. Chapter 15

_As always, a big thank you for the reviews, they really do mean a lot. Bee_

Chapter Fifteen

Jeff's show of confidence and outrage lasted all of two minutes after leaving the chapel. The moment the chauffeur closed the door of the hired car he collapsed against the back of the seat, closing his eyes and letting out a long weary breath. Watching him in concern Virgil decided that for the first time ever – apart from when he'd been sick – his father did indeed look old and tired. This was why he'd insisted on coming along. Not to laugh at Scott, despite Alan's accusations, but to make sure his father wasn't left alone to brood over Scott's bitter words.

"Where to, Sir?" the driver asked, making both Tracys start.

Jeff opened his eyes, clearly making an effort to pull himself together. He looked across at his son. "I really need a drink. But we have to get home and there's no way you're flying, so I guess it's straight to the airport."

"Dad..." Virgil began once they were underway.

Jeff cut him off with a raised hand. "It's alright, Virgil. Just give me a minute." He closed his eyes again, leaving Virgil alone with his own thoughts, which right now weren't the most cheerful. Apart from bringing back memories of one of the unhappiest periods of his life, the fight between his father and brother had been an unpleasant reminder of what might have been had things worked out differently. No wonder his father was shaken by it. Virgil just hoped Scott would be alright, knowing how much his brother had been dreading the confrontation. He wouldn't even be able to turn to Penny for comfort, not until Freddy was out of the way, anyway, and that might be a while.

He became suddenly aware of his father watching him and he turned to face him a little nervously, his concern only increasing at the speculative look on the man's face.

"You _do_ want to go home, don't you?" Jeff asked quietly.

Virgil knew full well the real meaning behind the question. "I already made that choice, Dad. Yes, I want to go home."

"Good." Jeff even managed a smile – just for a second. Then he turned away and stared out of the window. He didn't say another word until they reached the airport.

It was a long flight home. They were over halfway there before Virgil could coax more than a couple of words out of his father. Every time he reminded him that Scott had just been playing a part he got nothing more than a simple, "I know," before Jeff lapsed into silence once more.

When John called in to say that Scott had just been in touch to confirm that his credit card had been cancelled Jeff finally livened up.

"Was he okay?"

"I think so. He didn't say much, just that everything was going according to plan. He said to tell you he'd call you later and that you did a good job."

Jeff was a little less on edge after that, but it was still hard work to keep a conversation going and Virgil had never been so relieved when Tracy Island came into view.

As usual there was a welcoming committee waiting for them. The moment they stepped out of the jet they were bombarded with questions, from Gordon and Alan's pleas to be told every last detail – John had refused to transmit any footage of events in Las Vegas, much to their annoyance - to Tin-Tin's insistence on knowing all about the dress.

"We can watch it now you're here, can't we?" Gordon begged.

"There's really no need for you to see it," Jeff told them.

"But-"

"Forget it, Alan."

"But Dad... It's Scott! Getting married! To _Penny!_"

"I know, Gordon. But he's doing it for the good of International Rescue, not so that you can make the rest of his life a misery. Leave it!"

Tin-Tin said nothing, but she looked disappointed. One thing Jeff couldn't cope with was an emotional woman, especially when his own feelings were in turmoil. Turning away with a sharp, "Get Virgil to draw you a picture," he got out of the hangar as quickly as he could, ignoring Kyrano's offer of coffee as he headed towards his study. For once caffeine wasn't going to do the trick – he needed something stronger.

He'd just settled down, when there was a knock at the door. Setting down his glass in irritation he called to whoever had disturbed him to come in – probably Virgil, he thought, grateful for his son's concern but wishing he'd just leave him alone. But when the door slid open it was his mother standing there.

"I suppose you want to watch the wedding too," he said, although he had a sinking feeling she'd come for a more intense conversation.

"I already have."

"All of it?" His look of apprehension wasn't lost on her.

"All of it. John didn't want to show me but I insisted. Are you alright, Jeff?"

"I suppose so. It was... difficult. All the things we said, they could so easily have been true. I can't help wondering if some of them were."

"The things you said?"

Jeff took a long gulp of his drink. "You know that's not it. But the things he said to me. I'm sure he's thought them more than once over the past few months."

Grandma sat down in front of her son, doing her best to reassure him. "That won't help," she commented, nodding towards the whisky bottle.

"I know. But why hasn't he called yet, Mom? If I could at least talk to him and know that he's okay with everything..."

"He'll call when he can, you'll see. He can hardly get up in the middle of a conversation with this Freddy boy to come and have a chat with you, can he? Give him a chance, Jeff. You know he was fine when he spoke to John earlier. "

Jeff nodded, taking another sip of whisky. "It can't have been easy for Virgil either."

"No. But he wanted to be there to support you. I suppose he spent the whole flight telling you exactly the same things I just did?"

Jeff managed a smile. "More or less."

"Well then, there you are. Come on, Jeff, you can't shut yourself away in here all day."

Jeff allowed her to lead him back to the lounge. Pausing outside he couldn't help feeling sorry for Virgil who was fielding a barrage of questions as best he could. Maybe it was the effects of a very large whisky on an empty stomach, or maybe he'd just decided they all could do with cheering up, but he came to a decision as he strode into the room.

"Leave Virgil alone, you two. I suppose you might as well watch the wedding – on the sole condition that you don't mention a word to your brother."

He watched in amusement as Gordon weighed up his desperation to see the footage against the loss of a lifetime's worth of ammunition against his oldest brother. Jeff couldn't help laughing. It was good to see his son looking happy for a change.

"Okay..." Gordon finally agreed, although he couldn't quite keep the reluctance out of his voice. "I'll try, Dad."

"You'd better do more than try. Especially if he finds Thunderbird Four for you."

"Okay, okay, I won't say a word. You won't either, will you Al?"

"No."

"Alright then." Jeff put in a call to John and a few minutes later they were all sitting down to watch Scott and Lola's wedding - at least up to the point where Jeff had burst in.

In the end Gordon didn't have any regrets about promising not to wind up Scott. Alan's ever-increasing terror at Tin-Tin's enjoyment of the proceedings, along with her comments to Grandma about what the perfect wedding would be like – she'd clearly been giving a great deal of thought to the subject - provided an easy target and he'd soon turned his attention to his younger brother, deciding there was plenty of fun to be had at his expense over the next few days.

Once again, Grandma couldn't help wiping away a tear or two at the sight of her eldest grandson getting married – it might not have been for real but he and Penny did look so lovely together. She glanced over at Alan and Tin-Tin with such a hopeful expression, that the young man suddenly leapt up and fled from the room babbling something about Three's engines needing some work. He didn't know that the laughter from Jeff, Gordon and Virgil was as much for the look of disappointment on Tin-Tin and Grandma's faces as for his own panicked response.

Jeff couldn't help feeling more relaxed, although he wouldn't be entirely happy until he'd spoken to Scott.

* * *

><p>Grandma hadn't been wrong when she'd suggested that Scott might be too busy with Freddy to have time to call in. The man had insisted on continuing to celebrate their new business venture long into the night. Scott had protested that he needed to get back to the hotel to make it up with Lola – really wanting nothing more than to call his father and make sure things were okay between the two of them - but Freddy would have none of it and so, keen to see if the man would let anything slip about some of his uncle's less ethical activities, Scott allowed himself to be persuaded to stay. Fully aware that something like this was likely to happen, he'd brought along a supply of the drug Brains had concocted to negate the effects of alcohol and he occasionally took a dose, thankful that it would ensure that he kept a clear head and didn't give anything away himself. He was worn-out from trying to stay in role. There seemed to be no escape, though. Freddy could certainly drink and every time Scott thought the man might decide he'd had enough he'd call for another round of drinks instead.<p>

It wasn't until much later that evening that they left the bar. By that point Scott had run out of Brains' drug and was feeling just a little light-headed, although he exaggerated the effects considerably, doing his best to imitate Freddy who by this time was weaving his way towards a cab, a bottle of champagne in one hand and a girl in the other. The driver took one look at him and drove off. Four more cabs simply kept going as Freddy staggered into the road in a fruitless attempt to stop one. In the end Scott parked him on the kerb alongside his new girlfriend and waved one down himself.

"Great night, Scott," Freddy slurred when they reached the hotel and he fell out of the taxi.

Scott grabbed his arm, narrowly avoiding getting the last of the champagne poured over him, and helped him into the lobby, only to be confronted by Penny. He'd sent her a quick message to let her know he was on his way but he hadn't expected her to be waiting for him.

"Hey, P- er... Princess." He shot her an apologetic glance but Penny didn't react and Freddy was clearly too far gone to notice his hesitation.

"Where the hell have you been?" she snapped, clearly relishing her role as hard-done-by Lola. "I've been trying to call you. This was supposed to be the happiest day of my life, Scott and look how it turned out."

"Babe..." Scott decided it might be better to leave names for a while. "It's okay. Freddy here-"

At this point Freddy shoved the empty bottle into his girlfriend's hands, wobbled over and put an arm around Scott's shoulders. "Lola, sweetheart, you're a lucky girl."

"Really? How do you work that one out, Freddy? I'm spending my wedding night alone in a hotel lobby waiting for my husband to crawl out of some bar so that I can help him make things up with his father. Honestly, Scott, you should have called him hours ago. The longer this goes on the harder it will be for you to get back in with him. Who knows what he's done by now?" She looked at him in disgust. "There's no way you can ring him tonight, not in that state."

"Lola, Scott doesn't need his daddy anymore," Freddy insisted, slinging his free arm around Lola's neck and giving her an enthusiastic kiss. "Me and Scotty, we're going to be millionaires... no, _billionaires_. This time next year..."

"Oh?" Lola asked, pulling away from him with a shudder. "And how do you plan on doing that?"

"We're starting our own company," Scott told her. "With Brains. You wait and see, we'll be bigger than Tracy Industries. I don't need my father."

"That's right," Freddy slurred. "You saw how rattled Scott's old man got when he said he'd take Hacker... Hacken..."

"Brains." Scott helped him out.

"Yeah, him."

Lola appeared to consider this for a moment. "This had better not be the drink talking," she informed Scott.

"I'm not drunk," Scott insisted. "Anyway, it's all sorted. We're going to stay with Freddy for a while, just until we get set up, then we'll go anywhere you like. You can have everything you ever wanted."

Lola allowed him to put an arm around her. "You'd better be right," she told him. "We'll talk about it in the morning. 'Night, Freddy."

Freddy nudged Scott as he turned to leave. "See, told you she'd come round." He made his way back to the girl he'd picked up, leaving Scott and Penny to escape to the safety of their room.

"Thank God that's over," Scott muttered as he shut the door behind them. "The guy can drink. Didn't give anything away though and I didn't want to push too hard."

"You did well, Scott," Penny told him. "Although if you don't mind me saying so, you do seem a little the worse for wear yourself."

"It's been a long night," Scott told her.

"Indeed it has," Penny said, searching through her bag for her compact. "I spoke to Virgil earlier. You should call your father. He-"

A snore caught her attention and she turned to see Scott sprawled across the bed.

"Scott?" She shook his shoulder only to have him shrug her off and snore even more loudly.

Penny sighed. He clearly wasn't going to be shifting any time soon. It seemed she'd be spending her wedding night on the couch. Gently easing off his shoes and covering him with a throw she dimmed the lights then sat down to let John know that they'd got their invitation to Sir Reuben's island.


	16. Chapter 16

_Thanks for the great response to the last chapter - I really do appreciate the feedback. Bee_

Chapter Sixteen

Whether it was because of the sound of Scott's snoring or the difficulty in making herself comfortable on the small couch, it was some time before Penny could settle down to sleep. She'd finally drifted off properly at around 3am, only to be awoken an hour or so later with the realisation that someone was at the window, only their silhouette visible in the thin shaft of moonlight which came through a gap in the curtain. In any other situation she'd have feared the worst, anticipating an attack by some enemy, but, familiar now with Scott's presence, she soon relaxed again.

Smiling to herself as he knocked into a table – he was clearly still suffering from the effects of his night out with Freddy – she was about to get up and go over to check he was okay, when the sound of his voice stopped her.

"I know, Dad. It's fine. _I'm _fine. Are _you_ okay?"

Penny couldn't hear the reply, something she was strangely thankful for. She'd overheard plenty of supposedly private discussions during her years as an agent, but she didn't really feel comfortable listening to this one. She guessed that if Scott knew she was awake he'd cut the conversation short – like his father he found it hard enough to express his feelings in private, let alone in front of an audience. She didn't like the idea of deceiving him, but remembering her recent conversation with John in which he'd expressed his concern about Jeff's depression following the fight in the chapel, she decided it might be better to keep quiet and let the pair of them talk it out. Barely daring to breathe, she lay still, hoping Scott didn't realise she could hear him.

Scott was speaking again now, having settled himself into a chair, continually reassuring his father that he hadn't meant the things he'd said.

"I was playing a part. So were you, remember? Or did you mean what you said to me?"

Jeff had clearly negated that suggestion pretty emphatically.

"Well there you are then. Come on, Dad, this isn't like you. Forget about what happened before - it's over and done with. Let's concentrate on getting Gordon's 'bird back."

He'd clearly succeeded in getting Jeff to cheer up because the rest of the conversation was focused on the business of finding Thunderbird Four and punishing the people who'd taken her.

Scott seemed to be growing tired and he finally stopped mid-sentence with a massive yawn. "Guess you're right, Dad, I'll get some sleep. I'll call again in the morning. You're sure you're alright now?"

Clearly satisfied with the response he snapped Penny's compact closed and sat in silence for a moment before getting up. Making his way back to the bed he stopped beside the couch. Penny wondered if she should pretend to wake up, but she worried that if she did Scott might suspect she'd really been awake a lot longer. It wasn't worth the embarrassment he'd feel if he'd known she'd overheard his conversation.

To her surprise - though she was more touched than she could say by the simple gesture - the blanket which covered her was gently pulled up around her shoulders. But before she could work out how to respond he'd moved back to the bed and by the time she'd decided that the couch was no place to spend her wedding night and that maybe Scott suspected she was awake and was giving her a hint, his regular breathing and quiet snores told her he was fast asleep again.

* * *

><p>On Tracy Island, Jeff shut down the link to Scott and sat back feeling a whole lot better. He'd known deep down he was over-reacting, known that Scott was just saying what needed to be said in order to deceive Freddy McAllister, but he hadn't been able to stop himself taking his son's comments personally. Guilty conscience, he thought. He still couldn't quite believe how badly he'd behaved towards all his boys over the past year. His biggest fear these days wasn't the loss of one son or another during a rescue, it was the thought of one of them deciding they'd had enough of him and their restricted life on Tracy Island and walking out.<p>

Sipping his coffee he replayed Scott's words, reassured that all was well between them. Scott was certainly playing his part well, he thought. Now that he could think more clearly he was proud of his son. Unlike him he'd kept his cool after the confrontation and soon the search for Four could begin in earnest. He'd lose Brains for a while, though and that worried him. His behaviour had affected the engineer too and Jeff knew how much he dreaded leaving the security of the island, especially since it would mean reacquainting himself with a man who'd made his life a misery in the past.

He put down his cup and headed for the lab. Sure enough Brains was there, hard at work on an engine part for the new submarine.

"Scott called," Jeff told him. "It's all set."

"Y-yes, Mr T-Tracy. J-John told me."

"Are you sure you're ready for this?" Jeff felt he had to ask, even though Brains had already agreed to it.

Brains nodded, looking him straight in the eye for a moment, an unusual action for the shy genius.

"I-I have to. I _w-want_ to."

Jeff raised an eyebrow. Brains had clearly undergone a change of heart since they'd originally discussed it. Then he'd clearly been reluctant and uncertain. This sudden determination puzzled him, although the man's next words made things a lot clearer.

"They sh-should n-never have been able to s-steal Thunderbird F-Four."

"Brains-" Jeff was about to say once again that no one except Brains himself blamed him for what had happened. But he never got the chance to finish his sentence. It was so unusual for Brains to interrupt him that Jeff could only stare open-mouthed as the man continued.

"I-I want t-to get our Thunderbird b-back. And I w-want to show M-Marcus that I-I'm not as w-weak as he thinks I am. O-or as the r-rest of the w-world thinks I am for that m-matter. I-I'm not p-proud of what I d-did in N-New York, Mr Tracy. This is m-my chance to make amends."

"Have you been talking to my mother?" Jeff finally asked.

Brains smiled shyly.

"Sh-she talked t-to me."

Jeff laughed. " She's a wise woman is my mother. I'm glad you're feeling better about everything, Brains. Give that Marcus guy hell and get our technology back."

"Y-yes, Mr T-Tracy."

He turned back to his equipment. Jeff watched him for a while then decided it was time he got back to work too.

Calling his three remaining sons into the lounge he waited until they were settled before outlining all the tasks which needed to be done over the coming days. Scott hadn't yet fixed a date for Brains to leave, but Jeff knew it would be fairly soon.

"So Virgil, you'll have to oversee the construction of the new sub. Tin-Tin can-"

"What?" The cheerful mood Gordon had been enjoying ever since watching the wedding footage quickly disappeared. "Why are we bothering? Scott will get Four back."

Jeff sighed. "Gordon, your faith in your brother is touching, but you need to face facts. We don't know that Thunderbird Four will be in this place. Even if she is, chances are she's been dismantled ready for her components to be replicated."

"Yes, but she might still be in one piece. There has to be a chance. We can wait a week or so to find out, surely?"

"Gordon, even if she is intact, we'll have to check out every last inch of her for tracking devices, booby traps... We can't risk bringing her back to the island, not until we're sure it's safe. We've got to have a new submarine. We've been lucky so far - we haven't had a callout at sea but eventually it's going to happen and we need to be ready. Besides, you've seen the improvements Brains has come up with. You know full well the new version of Four will be much more effective...

"Don't look at me like that, son. We've been through all this."

Jeff was painfully aware that Virgil and Alan were looking awkwardly at the floor, neither willing to get involved in this. From conversations he'd had with both sons he knew they accepted his arguments – but they also cared too much about Gordon to feel comfortable telling him that. They'd have felt just the same if it was their 'bird being replaced. Jeff knew he was on his own with this one. Just as well he was feeling on form again, he thought. An hour ago he might have been less inclined to upset another son, but Gordon had to realise there was no going back on this.

"My decision's made. We go with the new Thunderbird Four. I want her finished by the end of the month."

"Yes sir." Only two sons replied.

"Gordon?"

Gordon looked sullenly out at the ocean for a moment before shrugging. "What choice do I have?" He got up and left the room before anyone could say any more, closely followed by Alan. They could hear the youngest Tracy calling to Gordon, but the redhead didn't seem to be taking any notice.

Virgil looked at his father. "You're back to normal."

Jeff nodded. "Yes. Scott and I had a talk. Everything's fine." He smiled at Virgil's _told you so_ expression. "Now then, you need to get down to work with Brains while I try to get through to Gordon."

* * *

><p>A few strong cups of coffee, a good breakfast and a session in the hotel gym were all Scott needed to revive himself the next morning. It took Freddy a lot longer – it was late afternoon before Scott got the call to say he was fit to talk business and when Scott arrived in his suite it was to find the man still bleary-eyed and decidedly fragile.<p>

"How come you look so good?" Freddy asked as he ushered Scott in. "I've got to hand it to you, Tracy, you can hold your drink."

"Years of practice in the Air Force," Scott told him. "Not to mention four younger brothers who see it as a challenge to drink me under the table. They haven't managed it yet, though. Then again, if you hadn't been buying it would have been a quiet night. I owe you one, Freddy."

"When we make our first sale we'll celebrate again. You can pay."

"Deal. So you're still keen to make a go of it?"

Freddy rubbed his eyes and nodded. "Absolutely. I'm guessing the lovely Lola's come round then?"

Scott smiled. "I can be persuasive when I want to be. She's fine. I've sent her down to the casino. My brother wired me some funds so at least I won't embarrass myself again while I'm here. But I'd like to get started as soon as possible. When can we come over to this island of your uncle's?"

"Soon as you like," Freddy told him. "But what about the honeymoon?"

"We've got a few more days here. But the honeymoon's on hold until I can afford to take Lola somewhere special. Besides, she wants me to focus on the business for a while. She's been great about all this really. I can't blame her for getting upset yesterday."

Freddy could well believe Lola wanted Scott to concentrate on the business. The sooner the money started rolling in the better as far as she was concerned. He wondered how a man like Scott Tracy could be so easily fooled. He decided he'd need to keep Lola happy. The last thing he needed was for her to get upset and drag Scott and his engineer friend away.

"How soon can you get Hackenbacker?"

"I talked to him earlier. He's ready to go."

"Doesn't he need to work his notice?"

"He's got about two years' worth of holiday entitlement built up," Scott told him. "The guy never stops working. But it means he can leave whenever he wants to. Just give me a date."

"I leave tomorrow," Freddy told him. "Give me a couple of days to get everything set up. How about Friday?"

"Friday it is," Scott said, shaking Freddy's hand. "Should we have a drink to seal the deal?"

Freddy winced.

* * *

><p>Freddy waited until he was completely restored to his usual self before calling home. First he told his uncle he'd managed to get the renowned Hiram Hackenbacker on board – as an employee, of course, there was naturally no mention of his private deal with Scott. He was unsurprised when instead of expressing his appreciation and telling him how clever he'd been, his uncle simply grunted, "About time too," before abruptly signing off.<p>

Freddy couldn't wait for the day he could tell the man he'd tricked him and that Hackenbacker had been working for him all along. One day his uncle would beg to do business with him, not slam the phone down on him. Still, it had saved him mentioning that the new arrival would be accompanied by two friends. He still wasn't quite sure how to play that one.

Then there was Marcus, who thankfully hadn't mentioned RMC or the names of his employers in his original email to Hackenbacker. It was the one thing which might put the man off, but Scott seemed unaware of any potential problem and Freddy decided that he'd plead ignorance. If he could just get the man onto the island and settled in his new lab he'd soon be happy. Marcus wasn't likely to be around much at first anyway – all his time was being taken up with Thunderbird Four and since the lagoon was restricted to just a few key personnel, Hackenbacker wasn't likely to stumble across him. He probably wouldn't even know Marcus was there.

He considered whether to take Sahara into his confidence. They worked well as a team. Freddy had come to rely on her over the past year and he knew full well that there were times – like when he'd been caught by the International Rescue pilot – that he'd have been in big trouble without her there to watch his back. She'd want to be a part of the new company, he knew that – she was a very different personality to Lola but the one thing they shared was a love of money. It could well be worth giving her a share in the business. She'd be useful in helping to deceive his uncle – he liked the girl and treated her with a lot more respect than he did Freddy. If she assured him all was well he'd be likely to leave Freddy alone. She could probably convince him that Scott and Lola should be welcomed onto the island too. Plus she'd be able to keep Marcus in check. Yes, he decided, Sahara should be told the truth.

But Sahara wasn't quite as enthusiastic as Freddy had anticipated. She hadn't been a highly regarded member of MI5 for nothing and her suspicions were immediately aroused. It was all too good to be true as far as she was concerned.

"Going into business is one thing but I can't believe you're thinking of bringing them to the island," she told him.

"It's fine. Scott can work on setting up the company – you know you'll like it when the money starts rolling in – and Lola can work on her tan. It's only for a few months, until we get something else set up."

"But Freddy, do you really think now's an appropriate time to have guests? How do you know you can trust them? They could be agents for International Rescue."

Freddy couldn't help laughing. "Sahara, check them out if it makes you feel better. I promise you, they're legit. You should have seen the fight Scott had with his father. Trust me, there was no faking that. And anyway, do you really think they'd get Jeff Tracy involved in something like this?"

"If it really was him," Sahara said dubiously. She clearly didn't have as high an opinion of Freddy's judgement as the man himself did.

"It was. Look, waste your time investigating them if you like, but make sure everything's set for Friday."

He signed off feeling more than a little annoyed. Time for a trip to the casino, he decided. Half an hour later he was feeling a whole lot better. Picking up a large pile of chips he decided his luck had definitely changed since meeting Scott and Lola.

* * *

><p>Later that day John called his father to let him know someone was running checks on the new Mr and Mrs Tracy. He was confident that all the measures he'd put in place would hold out, but it was an unpleasant reminder that however easy it had been to fool Freddy, there were others involved who could be dangerous if they so much as suspected Scott and Penny's true motives for being on Sir Reuben's island.<p>

"We'll be ready," Jeff told him, turning to Tin-Tin who was working with him on a TI project. Sure enough, not thirty minutes later the phone she'd been keeping close all day, the one which had been programmed by John to intercept calls to Scott's office at Tracy Industries, began to ring. With a glance across at Jeff, she answered.

"John Tracy's office."

"I asked to be put through to _Scott _Tracy." The woman's voice had just a hint of a French accent and Tin-Tin knew this was the woman who had shot Virgil.

"I'm sorry, Mr Scott is unavailable."

"When will he be back? I really don't want to deal with anyone else."

"I don't have that information, I'm afraid. All I know is that as of this morning all Mr Scott's projects have been passed onto Mr John or Mr Tracy senior. Perhaps one of them could help you?"

"No. Thank you." Sahara hung up.

"Well done," Jeff told her. "My PA tells me there's quite a lot of gossip going round the office at the moment. That memo about Scott taking indefinite leave seems to have given people the right idea. Or do I mean the wrong idea? Anyway, my employees clearly think something's happened and he's left the company. It's all going to plan."

"I hope Penny's cover story holds up as well," Tin-Tin said. "I suppose this woman will call Kansas next."

Sahara had done exactly that. Twenty minutes later, just as John was informing his father that someone had started running a full background check on Lola, Virgil got a call from his friend Dylan who, according to the background John and Penny had established for Lola, had employed her as a receptionist at his law firm.

"Some woman called wanting a reference," Dylan said. "French accent. Is she the one...?"

"Yep." Virgil was glad that there were no longer any secrets between him and his best friend from school. Following Dylan's involvement in the aborted plan to deal with his cousin, Virgil had pressed his father to not only let him tell Dylan about International Rescue, but also to recruit him as an agent.

Promising his friend they'd meet up in a few weeks once all this was over and he could bring his grandmother to Kansas to see how much progress had been made on rebuilding her old farmhouse, he ended the call and went to check on Gordon. He knew his father hadn't had any joy in cheering him up and that even Alan had given up after countless attempts to lighten his mood. Checking his watch, Virgil was relieved to see his brother had left Two's hangar where Alan had left him staring sourly at the space where pod four should have stood. Now he was in his room and, knocking on the door, Virgil was relieved when it slid open. Apparently his brother was finally in the mood to talk.

But to his surprise Gordon wasn't alone. Grandma was there too, the pair of them sitting at Gordon's desk. Gordon was grinning wickedly and Grandma was quietly giggling.

"What?" Virgil asked suspiciously.

"Come and have a look," Gordon said, pushing his chair away from the desk so Virgil could see the computer screen.

"He's going to kill you," Virgil told him, trying to hide his own smile at the image of Scott and Lola staring lovingly into each other's eyes – one which Gordon and Grandma had changed so that Lola now had blonde hair and looked like Penny once again.

"Want a copy, Grandma?" Gordon asked.

"Thank you, darling," Grandma said. "I suppose this will have to do until I get a real wedding photo." She looked despairingly at her grandsons before getting up. "Maybe I'll just see what Alan and Tin-Tin are up to."

Laughing, Virgil turned back to the computer. "If Scott finds out you did that he'll blow up Four himself."

"Only if he finds out," Gordon told him. "Grandma will keep the photo in her room and you won't tell him."

"Won't I?"

"No. You're too pleased to see your poor 'birdless brother smiling again. You came along to cheer me up, didn't you?"

"True. But will you still be smiling when the new sub starts taking shape? I need your help, Gords. You're her pilot, if anyone should have the final say on the specs it's you."

"I know."

"And if we do get Four back you can keep her in reserve, just in case there's a fault with the new one. You've always said you'd like the chance to explore the seas around here. Dad would never have let you do that in Four – but now's your chance."

Gordon considered this. "I like that idea. Okay, Virg. I guess I should be more help with the new design. But I tell you now, if Scott doesn't get my 'bird back for me, this photo's going to haunt him for the rest of his life."

Virgil looked back at the screen. He didn't voice his thoughts but he couldn't help wondering if Scott would really mind all that much.

* * *

><p>And so, with everyone more or less back to their old selves, work progressed steadily on the replacement Thunderbird Four, whilst Brains prepared to leave Tracy Island for the first time in months. In his suitcase were designs for a variety of weapons – something he'd hated doing, but which had been necessary in order to convince Freddy – and his uncle – that he could deliver what they wanted. He just hoped Marcus didn't get his hands on them. He had a sneaking suspicion that the mixture of gases which had been used to cut through the hull of pod four had been based on a formula he'd come up with at Cambridge. He'd always suspected Marcus of stealing his notebook. He really wasn't looking forward to meeting his old rival again.<p>

When Thursday evening arrived and he boarded the jet ready for the short flight to the mainland where he would meet up with Scott and Penny, Brains said his goodbyes to all the inhabitants of the island who had come down to the runway to wish him luck. He locked eyes once more with Gordon as he paused at the top of the steps. With a short nod he reiterated his promise to do all he could to get Four back. He glanced over at Virgil too. His friend was almost completely recovered now - he'd be able to fly again in another week and Jeff had given him the go-ahead to take part in any rescues between now and then just as long as he didn't do anything which would damage his shoulder again. Brains wondered if he'd meet the woman who'd shot him. With a sudden shiver as he considered the danger he was walking into, he shut the plane's door, calling to Alan that he was ready.

Sitting in a window seat he watched as the island dwindled to a dot in the ocean. He hadn't left it in a long time. At one stage he'd told himself he never would. Nothing less than the need to recover a stolen Thunderbird would have persuaded him, he thought. Despite his nervousness he was looking forward to being part of the mission to find Four. And if he could regain a little confidence and self-respect along the way, then so much the better.


	17. Chapter 17

_Bit short this time - it's been a very busy week. Thanks as always for reviews and alerts, they really are valued. Whirlgirl, Rachel and Sunny - I can't reply personally so a special 'thank you' to all of you. Bee_

Chapter Seventeen

There was no private family jet to fly the disgraced Scott Tracy and his bride - plus Brains of course - to London. Instead they went commercial, though Scott decided his financial problems weren't quite bad enough to justify them flying economy. He didn't think Lola - or Penny for that matter - would tolerate quite that much of a drop in standards. Plus, since the first class area was almost empty, it meant the three conspirators could take advantage of this final chance to refine their plans. Once they met up with Freddy for the flight to Sir Reuben's island they'd have no further opportunity to confer and, until they ascertained what security measures were in place on the island, they wouldn't be able to say much when they got there either.

"How are you feeling, Brains?" Penny asked. The engineer had been quiet ever since he'd met up with them, clearly nervous about what was to come.

"O-okay, L-Lady... er... L-L-Lola." Brains shook his head, his frustration evident. He was clearly thinking that someone of his great intelligence should be able to remember a simple change of name.

"Brains, relax," Scott told him. "If you work yourself up you'll make more mistakes. You don't need to say much to Lola - you're not supposed to know her very well anyway. Just concentrate on finding out all you can about the setup in this place. The sooner we find out if Four is there, the sooner all this will be over."

"I suggest you don't speak to me at all," Penny told him. "No one will think it strange if you steer clear of scheming young women, not after everything that happened before."

"Good point," Scott said, frowning as he watched Brains blush. "Cheer up, Brains. Look at it this way - the quieter you are, the more likely it is that people won't take much notice of you. You've got more chance of overhearing something useful that way."

Brains nodded, unable to meet Scott's eyes. He supposed Penny and Scott both had a point. His natural shyness and his stutter could work in his favour this time, he thought. People did have a tendency to leave him alone and before joining forces with Jeff Tracy he'd often spent hours working quietly in the corner of a busy lab whilst all around him colleagues chatted and joked, seemingly oblivious to his presence. He'd have his own lab this time though, if Freddy had indeed delivered on all his promises. But since he was ostensibly an employee of RMC he'd presumably get to spend some time with his new workmates. He'd be the one most likely to pick up some information about the stolen Thunderbird. Freddy, as friendly as he appeared to be with Scott, was unlikely to let him know anything about his involvement in that particular project.

"Scott, what did Freddy say when you spoke to him?" Penny asked.

"Everything's set for our arrival. Sir Reuben thinks Brains is there to work for him - you've got those missile specs, haven't you, Brains?" As his friend nodded, the expression on his face showing just what he thought of that particular invention, Scott went on. "You carry on with something along those lines - let Freddy think it's for the new company. I guess you'll be left alone to get on with things, although it's possible the RMC people might give you a few jobs too."

"W-What about M-Marcus?" Brains asked.

"I'm not supposed to know about him, remember? I'm going to be as surprised as you are when it turns out he works there. Just remember that in his email he seemed friendly enough - maybe he'll be the same in person. After all, he did invite you to join the company."

"I-It's just as well he didn't m-mention where he w-worked," Brains said. "H-he'd know something w-was up otherwise."

"Well he won't know anything's up until he finds himself arrested," Penny assured him. "Just think about how good it's going to feel to see him in handcuffs and to get your technology back."

"Will we see it though?" Scott asked. "You know how carefully we've got to play this. Going in under our own names might have been the only way for us to get onto this island, but it makes it all the more dangerous for Brains and me. We can't afford to have anyone link us to IR. If they do, then we've had it. They'll remember Dad's involvement in all this and the whole family will be exposed."

"We talked about this, Scott," Penny reminded him. "If we find Thunderbird Four we don't do anything. No matter how much Gordon might like us to, we can't go charging in to take her back. We alert my MI5 contacts and react with complete surprise when the island is raided. We can stand and watch in awe with the rest of the employees as International Rescue turns up to reclaim its property. Gordon will be able to pick up Thunderbird Four himself and no one will know we had anything to do with it."

"You make it sound so simple," Scott told her. In his experience even the best laid plans had a tendency to go horribly wrong.

"Well let's hope it is," Penny told him. "Now then, Sahara is likely to be a lot harder to fool than Freddy, so why don't you ask me a few questions about my life in Kansas?"

Brains tuned out as Scott helped Penny run through the details of Lola's life. Pulling out a notebook, he began to jot down some ideas for an upgrade to the Mole before suddenly realising what he was doing. Setting down his pencil he ripped out the page and tore it into tiny pieces. With the beady-eyed Marcus around he'd need to make sure his notebooks were completely free of any IR-related ideas. He didn't want to think about the consequences if the three of them were discovered. Scott had been right when he'd said that it would immediately lead to the revelation of the truth behind International Rescue, but on a more personal note it would more than likely mean a great deal of unpleasantness which would probably only end with their deaths.

He couldn't help wishing he'd stayed on Tracy Island.

* * *

><p>Freddy was his usual cheerful self when they met him at Heathrow. He shook Scott's hand, kissed Lola, then turned to Brains.<p>

"Hiram, it's good to meet you at last."

"C-call m-me B-Brains," Brains told him. To be honest, he didn't really care what Freddy called him. It was what Marcus would call him that would be the problem.

"Brains then." Freddy smiled warmly. "I'm a great admirer of your work. I know you won't regret leaving Tracy Industries."

"Th-thank y-you." Brains always stammered more when he was nervous. He wasn't sure if Freddy picked up on his anxiety or whether he just didn't want the hassle of a conversation with him, but, whatever the man's reason for turning away in order to talk to Scott, Brains couldn't help feeling relieved.

"So how do we get to this island of yours?" Scott asked.

"Company helicopter," Freddy told him. "There's no runway so conventional planes can't land. It's seaplanes or helicopters if you want to arrive by air. Of course we could take a boat but that would take days and I want to get down to work straight away."

"Fine by me," Scott told him. "Brains is keen to get started and I know Lola can't wait to get onto the beach."

Lola giggled. "I don't know what I'm going to do with myself while you two are working."

Freddy smiled as he escorted them to a helipad. Scott had been half-expecting one of the helicopters which had challenged Thunderbird One to be waiting there, but this craft was much bigger and clearly used only to carry large groups of people.

"We use this to ferry our personnel around when it's time for a change in their rotation," Freddy told them. "Brains, I'm sure you'll find you're in good company. My uncle only employs the best people. Just remember not to tell them why you're really there."

"No chance of that," Scott laughed.

A woman stepped out of the helicopter as they approached.

"Sahara," Freddy told them. "My uncle's right-hand woman and my good friend. She knows all about our new company, Scott. She'll be a big help to us."

"There you are, honey," Scott told Lola. "You can start making friends."

"I'm not sure you and Sahara will have much in common," Freddy told Lola. "She used to be a spy."

"Really?"

"Really. She's a dangerous woman." A thought suddenly struck him. "By the way, that girl I met in Vegas... best not to mention it to Sahara. We're kind of... well, we're not serious or anything, but I still wouldn't want to upset her. She's not the kind of woman you want to get on the wrong side of."

"She won't hear anything from me," Scott told him. "Lola, honey, can you keep that bit of gossip to yourself?"

"Sure can. I can't wait to talk to her though. A real live spy, Scott! I knew as soon as I met you that life would get more exciting."

"Well it won't be too exciting just yet," Freddy warned her. "The island's a quiet place. Work, work, work, that's all most people there think about. Drives me crazy after a while. That's another good thing about having you two around. We don't often have guests, especially not anyone I can have some fun with.

"My uncle didn't want you to come, if I'm honest. Sahara had quite a job to persuade him. No good me talking to him - he likes me about as much as your father likes you, Scott. Still, he came round in the end - he knows he's onto a good thing with Brains here."

By now they'd reached the helicopter. Introductions were made, Sahara looking appreciatively at Scott and respectfully at Brains. Lola she ignored completely after a single dismissive glance. Penny didn't know whether to feel insulted or relieved that her new identity was holding up. One thing was certain, she'd be happy to see this woman brought down a peg or two. Quite how Scott was managing to smile so charmingly at the woman who'd shot his closest brother she didn't know.

Slipping back into role Penny moved closer to Scott, gripping his hand possessively and pulling him away from Sahara.

"Sit here, Scott," she purred, pulling him into the seat furthest away from the other woman.

Scott turned to face her. "Here we go, honey," he said as the helicopter rose into the air. "No going back now."


	18. Chapter 18

_Sorry this is late - it's been another one of those weeks... _

Chapter Eighteen

As they approached their destination, Scott couldn't help but be reminded of Gordon's observation that the set-up on Sir Reuben's island was very similar to that on Tracy Island. From the air it too looked perfectly innocent. The elegant villa appeared to be nothing more than a rich man's hideaway. Yet, as was the case with Tracy Island there was a lot more hidden away than anyone would ever imagine. Certainly from the air no one would ever suspect the presence of a large underground complex of living quarters, laboratories and workshops.

"You'd never believe over thirty people work here, would you?" Freddy said as the helicopter began its descent.

Scott agreed with him. There was no sign of anyone at that moment - the swimming pool and tennis courts were deserted and there wasn't so much as a footprint on the stretch of beach that he could see.

"Everyone's at work right now," Freddy told him. "We don't keep regular hours but most people work through the day. Or the night in some cases. I'll show you to your quarters then give you a tour."

"We've given you and Lola the guest house," Sahara told Scott. "It's perfect for a honeymooning couple - right on the beach. Mr Hackenbacker will be based with the rest of the employees. We've got to keep up the pretence of him being one of them, remember."

"Well that sounds just perfect," Lola told her, taking Scott's hand and smiling smugly across at the other woman. She wasn't happy, though - she'd hoped to be on the spot in the main house, plus she didn't like the idea of being so far away from Brains. Still, she could hardly argue.

Brains and Scott weren't too pleased either, though neither gave anything away. Brains couldn't help feeling under even more pressure. He wondered if Marcus was quartered with the rest of the workers or whether his position as Sir Reuben's chief engineer would enable him to distance himself from the others.

"I'll take Scott and Lola over to the beach house," Sahara said, unbuckling her seat belt. "Freddy, show Mr Hackenbacker to his room. We'll meet up in an hour; give you all a chance to settle in."

Scott watched Brains follow Freddy over to the main house before turning back to the luggage which was being unloaded from the helicopter. One characteristic Lola shared with Penny was the inability to travel light. She had four suitcases to Scott's one, although since hers held all the equipment they'd brought with them he thought it was probably unfair to make any mention of it. If nothing else it reinforced the idea of Lola as an airhead, more concerned with her appearance than anything else, especially since all the IR gadgets they'd brought had been hidden in, or disguised as, Lola's beauty aids.

"Someone will bring those down later," Sahara told him as he moved to pick up the largest case. "Come on, follow me."

It was a good five minute walk down to the beach, every step adding to the concern both Scott and Penny felt about leaving Brains alone in the main house. Even so, they stayed in role, making all the right noises of appreciation as they finally arrived at their destination.

"This is perfect," Lola announced. She crossed over to the small kitchen, expressing her delight at the bottle of champagne sitting in the fridge.

"I don't know what you want to do about meals," Sahara said. "We've stocked up the kitchen for you, but you're welcome to come up to the main house whenever you want. We feed our people well."

"I don't cook!" Lola sounded quite insulted and Scott couldn't help thinking this might be another characteristic his wife shared with Lady Penelope.

"I guess we'll be coming up to the house then," he said.

"No problem," Sahara told him. "Why don't you unpack and freshen up and I'll see you up at the house later. Come round to the pool, I'll be waiting there."

"Thanks," Scott said, escorting her to the door and watching as she made her way back up the path to the house. He turned to find Lola apparently checking her appearance in her compact. All the time keeping up a casual conversation with Scott, she wandered around the house, finally coming back to the living room and snapping the compact shut.

Scott raised an eyebrow and she nodded, holding up four fingers. Scott gathered from this that four rooms in the house had been bugged. He wasn't sure whether to worry or not - from what he'd learned from Freddy, his uncle was a suspicious man, bordering on the downright paranoid. He might make a habit of listening in to his guests' conversations, just to be sure they weren't really enemies or trying to pull a fast one over a business deal. It didn't mean they'd been discovered - if they had then surely they wouldn't have made it as far as the island. Even so, he couldn't help feeling nervous.

He moved over to the stereo, searching through the songs stored there until he found something suitably romantic. "Come here," he said for the benefit of anyone listening, pulling Lola down onto the couch and snuggling up to her.

"Every room?" he whispered in her ear, confident that with the music in the background he wouldn't be overheard.

Penny shifted so she could whisper back. "Every single one. Just audio, thank goodness. Let's hope Brains' little gadgets work."

"We'll set them up later," Scott said. "We need our cases first. You think they'll search them?"

"If they do they won't find anything," Penny told him, suddenly pushing him away and announcing loudly, "Not now, Scott. I'm tired after the flight."

"Aw, honey, come on," Scott protested, determined to play the part of the lovestruck newly-wed as well as he could. He couldn't help wondering how they were going to manage that night though, not with people listening to see if they really were what they claimed to be.

"I'm going to take a shower," Lola said, wriggling out of his grasp. "Then I want to see the house and _you_ need to start work. As nice as this place is, I can't wait to get somewhere of our own."

Scott let her go and sprawled across the couch. "Guess you're right. We need to check in with Brains anyway. I'll call Virg and let him know we got here safely."

Pulling out his phone he made a show of muttering in frustration at his inability to get a signal. It didn't surprise him - it wasn't a problem anyway since the phone had been modified by Brains to act as an IR comm device - but until they knew exactly what security measures were in place he didn't dare transmit anything. His family would just have to wait to find out what was going on.

An hour later Scott and Lola met up with Sahara at Sir Reuben's villa. She took them first to the staff quarters which were separated from the main part of the house by a concealed door. No casual visitor - if there should ever be any such thing - would ever guess there was more to the villa than could be seen from the outside. She led them along a corridor, finally stopping outside Brains room and rapping on the door.

"Hey, buddy, ready for the tour?" Scott asked as Brains pulled the door open. Glancing into the room he saw it was perfectly comfortable if not particularly large. Brains had already loaded up the shelves with books and various gadgets were scattered over the floor.

"Can't wait to get down to work, huh?" Freddy had joined them, keen to get Brains settled in his new lab. "Ready?"

With Brains' agreement they set off.

"Bet you've never seen anything like this before," Freddy said as he led the visitors down a flight of stairs into the work area. "There are a load of caves under the island, we just built into those."

Scott pretended to be impressed, wondering what Freddy would say if he just yawned and told him he'd seen it all before.

"We can shut this area off completely. No one would ever know there was anything beyond the main house," Freddy told them. "If we ever got raided-"

"Raided?" Scott asked. "Why would that happen? I thought this was a legitimate company."

Sahara laughed. Her glare at Freddy had been so quick that Penny wouldn't have registered it unless she'd been looking for it. "We are. But you know what the arms business is like. Sir Reuben takes security very seriously. Because our work is so sensitive we don't advertise the fact that we have people working here. We have offices and factories in Britain and America, so most people believe that we do all our R&D there. Only a few trusted people know better."

"Well I'm pleased you trust us," Scott said as they came to a halt outside Brains' new lab, Freddy throwing open the door with a flourish. "This looks great. What do you think, Brains?"

"Y-yes, it's m-most suitable," Brains said, looking around and deciding that, whilst the lab was well-equipped, it didn't match up to the facilities Jeff Tracy had provided for him. It would do for a few days, though he sincerely hoped they wouldn't be there any longer. He hadn't run into Marcus yet, but he knew it could only be a matter of time.

"I'll leave you here to get settled," Sahara told him. "Freddy tells me you have some great ideas."

Brains looked at the floor and mumbled something unintelligible.

"That new missile launcher is going to make RMC a fortune," Freddy said. "It will keep Uncle Reuben off our backs for a while. Of course, it's Brains' new inventions we're really interested in. From now on everything you design is for me and Scott, right?"

"Of c-course."

"Good man," Scott said, clapping Brains on the shoulder. "We'll be back later for dinner. How about we meet up then?"

"Actually I was hoping you would all join me tonight," Freddy said. "Celebratory dinner. I've got a house on the other side of the island. Come over about eight. Sahara will show you the way."

"Sounds good," Scott said. "See you later then, Brains."

Brains watched as his friends left the lab, the door sliding closed behind them. Pulling out what appeared to be an ordinary data pad, he turned it on and quickly swept the room for bugs. Sure enough there was a listening device just like the one in his quarters. Like Scott and Penny he wondered if Sahara really did suspect them of anything, or whether this was just standard practice in Sir Reuben's company. Having already discovered a similar device in the employee recreation area, he was inclined towards the latter. Not that it mattered - suspicion was one thing, proof was another, and he was determined he wouldn't give anything away. Deciding he'd spend an hour or so in the lab then go for a wander to get to know his new environment, he settled down at his desk and got to work.

Scott and Penny followed Freddy back to the main house. Sahara left them when they got to the lounge and Freddy moved over to the bar and poured them all drinks. Handing them over, he seemed about to propose a toast when the door opened and Sir Reuben McAllister came in. Scott recognised him immediately from his picture, though he thought the man had put on even more weight since that photo was taken. Noticing his red face and the way he wheezed as he approached them, Scott decided he was a heart attack waiting to happen. What made him take an instant dislike to the man, however, was the scowl which appeared on his face when he saw the visitors, a scowl which only deepened as his eyes came to rest on his nephew.

"Stealing my best port again?" Sir Reuben asked, taking the glass out of Freddy's hand.

Freddy reddened and swallowed nervously before pulling himself together and introducing Scott and Lola.

"Hackenbacker's friends?" Sir Reuben asked, ignoring the hand Scott held out. "How long are they staying?"

"Not long," Freddy said. "Brains is a little nervous. The only way we could get him here was to let him bring some company."

"He'll be fine once he's got used to the place," Scott said.

Sir Reuben finally deigned to look at him. "You'd be Jeff Tracy's son?"

"That's right."

"Fallen out with your father, I hear."

"Unfortunately, yes," Scott said, somewhat warily.

"I suppose you've given him as hard a time as this one's given me," Sir Reuben grumbled with a dismissive wave in Freddy's direction. "Why we bother giving you young ones a good start in life I don't know. Still, he's got more sons to take your place, I gather. I don't have that luxury."

Scott and Penny couldn't help feeling a little sorry for Freddy. No wonder he wanted to get away. Scott had to remind himself of his involvement in Alan's beating, not to mention the way he'd knocked out Virgil after he'd been shot. Even so, he found himself hoping that the young man would get the chance to see Sir Reuben brought down - it might bring him some comfort during the years he'd spend in prison.

"Freddy, can you show us the way back to our house?" Lola asked.

Freddy turned to her with genuine gratitude. "I certainly can. Come on."

"Don't be long," his uncle told him. "I need to talk to you. There's another hold-up on that special project."

"Ten minutes," Freddy promised, ushering Scott and Lola outside.

"Thanks," he said once they were well away from the house.

"Nice guy," Scott said.

Freddy managed a bitter laugh. "You caught him on a good day. Trust me, you don't want to be around when he's mad about something."

Scott would have loved to ask about Freddy's life with his uncle but there was something else on his mind.

"Special project?"

Freddy smiled. "Top secret, Scott. There are a few things going on here we can't afford to let the competition find out about. "

Scott didn't push it, but he just knew Freddy was referring to Thunderbird Four.

Back in their house, Scott and Penny found their cases waiting in the living room. Mindful that someone was likely to be listening in on them, they kept the conversation on neutral lines. Scott watched as Penny took out all the items which Brains had modified, smiling across at him as she decided that although their bags had more than likely been searched, their secrets remained undiscovered. After turning on the stereo, Scott helped her dismantle a hairdryer, pulling several small electronic devices out of the handle and setting them up around them. A few wires were connected and a green light appeared on each one. Sitting together in the middle, Scott and Penny breathed a dual sigh of relief, confident that any listeners would hear nothing but music.

"Finally we can talk," Penny said, still using Lola's accent - she was a little worried she'd have trouble getting it back if she stopped - but sounding much more like her usual capable self. "Where would we be without Brains?"

"Not here, that's for sure," Scott smiled. "And certainly not able to talk openly. What did you find out about the main house?"

"Bugs everywhere," Penny told him. "I don't think we're under suspicion particularly, I think they just like to know everything that's going on."

"So far so good then," Scott mused. "It's going to be hard to get a message home, though. This gadget stops us being overheard but it won't allow any radio transmissions through."

"I asked Sahara about the phones," Penny said. "She said there are some in the staff areas we can use. I'd guess they're monitored too."

"We don't have anything to tell the guys yet anyway," Scott reminded her. "I just hope Brains gets his stuff set up in the lab okay. It's going to be impossible to talk to him otherwise. I can hardly whisper tenderly in his ear like I can with you."

"About that, Scott..."

"I know. We'll think of something. Maybe we should have a fight. I mean, if we're not talking we can hardly..."

"Quite," Penny agreed.

"Sir Reuben's not a nice guy is he?" Scott commented, keen to change the subject.

"He's living up to his reputation," Penny told him.

"I thought spies were supposed to be charming. He didn't even look at you."

"It was his partner, Randolph Pemberton, who charmed the ladies," Penny informed him. "Sir Reuben was the strategist. He's a dangerous man, Scott, and most unpleasant. I feel quite sorry for Freddy."

"Me too. Not that it's going to stop me bringing him down. I have to keep reminding myself what he's capable of, though."

"We should get ready for dinner," Penny said with a glance at her watch. "I don't think we'll find out much tonight, not at Freddy's."

"Maybe Brains will have more luck," Scott said, "I can't say I'm happy about us being split up, but at least someone's on the spot. Brains can do the insomniac mad scientist act and prowl around at all hours. If anyone's going to find out something it'll be him."

"I hope he's careful," Penny said. "We might have made it onto Sir Reuben's island but I'm not entirely convinced Sahara trusts us."

"The sooner we're away from this place the better," Scott said, getting to his feet and helping Penny dismantle the equipment. Within a minute they were back in character, leaving their unpacking in favour of a romantic stroll along the beach.

* * *

><p>Brains was exploring his new workplace. He'd left his lab and made his way along the corridors, stopping every time he came to a new room to push the door open a fraction or to peer through a window. He hadn't seen any sign of Thunderbird Four but he had spotted two eminent scientists, men he'd never have expected to find working for an arms company. He hadn't made his presence known, but he knew eventually he'd have to talk to them. Neither man specialised in marine technology, however, so he guessed they wouldn't be of any help in finding Four.<p>

Turning a corner he came to a large steel door. There was no way through, not without knowing the code which would activate the lock. Glancing up he saw a security camera watching him. It seemed there might be something interesting behind the door, but it wasn't going to be easy to find out what.

"Lost?"

Sahara's voice made Brains jump.

"I-I-I was ex-exp..."

"Exploring?" Sahara smiled as Brains nodded, though her eyes remained cold. "Didn't Freddy give you the full tour? Come on, I'll show you round properly. There's nothing exciting down here, just storage."

Deciding that this storeroom was rather elaborately protected, Brains obediently followed her back the way he'd come, deciding that one way or another he was going to find out what was behind that door.

* * *

><p>Dinner was a surprisingly relaxed affair, Freddy clearly having recovered from his first drinking session with Scott and ready for a repeat performance. Catching Penny's eye Scott smiled and helped himself to several generous glasses of wine, happy to have an excuse to do nothing more than fall asleep the minute he and Penny got back to their house. Even Sahara seemed to have lightened up, although Penny couldn't help wondering if her insistence on hearing all about Lola's life in Kansas was due to something more than just a friendly interest. Whatever Sahara's motives, Penny stuck to the story she and John had put together. Even so, there were one or two awkward moments.<p>

"You know, your accent changes sometimes," Sahara told her.

"I should hope so. I'm doing my best to lose it. After all, a girl has to try to better herself," Lola informed her. "I'm Mrs Scott Tracy now; I don't want to sound like a country girl."

"You sound perfect the way you are," Scott informed her, sneaking an arm around her waist. "You don't have to change yourself for me."

"But I want to," Lola retorted. "When I meet all those important people at your business dinners I want to make a good impression."

"Oh you'll always do that," Freddy told her, earning himself a glare from Sahara for his trouble. She responded by turning her attention to Scott and monopolising him for the rest of the evening.

Brains watched the scene quietly. He didn't drink - he rarely did - and since no one other than Scott spoke to him, he took the chance to observe Sahara and Freddy. The man seemed perfectly at ease, but Sahara, whilst outwardly friendly enough, could be seen giving Lola suspicious looks every now and again. Although, given the way she looked at Scott, maybe it was just jealousy. All in all he was glad when he could make a move back to his room. Tomorrow would be a busy day - he knew he'd have to talk to the other workers and that in itself was enough to make him nervous. Sleep would be hard to come by that night, he was sure of it. Even so, he wasn't going to do any investigating tonight - not until he had a better feel for the place.

* * *

><p>Over the next two days there was a maddening lack of progress, though not for want of trying on the part of all three conspirators. Scott was forced to spend most of his time with Freddy, the young man surprising him with his keenness to get down to business. He was clearly desperate to break away from his uncle, who seemed to be constantly on his back. When he met up with Scott after spending time at the main house he'd be quiet and sullen for a while before suddenly recapturing his usual cheeriness and throwing himself into the task of setting up the new company. Much to his frustration Scott couldn't get anything useful out of him - even a random comment about International Rescue's latest heroics didn't get him anywhere.<p>

Penny wasn't having any luck either. Sahara had insisted on helping her settle in, taking her for walks around the island and spending hours chatting by the pool. Penny, concerned that Sahara might still have suspicions about her, had no choice but to stay in role, and it had been impossible for her to wander the complex in the way she'd hoped.

Brains hadn't fared any better. He'd got to know a few of his fellow-workers, enjoying the complex discussions they held over meals and in the lounge during the evening, although he couldn't help missing the Tracys - the conversation at their dinner-table might not be so high-brow but there were a lot more laughs. It seemed that no one knew for sure, but rumour had it that there was another, top-secret, lab somewhere on the island but that it was restricted to Sir Reuben's top people and so, given the high salaries and excellent working conditions they enjoyed, it probably wouldn't do to pry. That didn't help Brains and he'd turned his attention to studying the numerous security devices in place in the hope that he'd find a way of overriding them and finding a way into this hidden lab. The only bright spot as far as he was concerned was that he hadn't yet run into Marcus.

It was the end of Brains' second day on the island and, just before dinner, he'd gone back to his lab to finish up an experiment he'd been running. When the door to the lab slid open he turned, expecting to see Scott or Freddy. He certainly wasn't prepared to see Sir Reuben standing there.

For a moment the two men stared at each other. Sir Reuben's cold, pale eyes seemed to see right through him, threatening to uncover every secret he carried. Brains couldn't help feeling intimidated and he wondered how the man could ever believe he'd want to leave Jeff Tracy to work for someone like him.

Sir Reuben walked slowly over to him and settled himself against a workbench, still staring steadily at Brains.

"How are you enjoying your new job, Mr Hackenbacker?"

Brains muttered something about it being a pleasure to join the company, registering with some surprise the pitying look in Sir Reuben's eyes and stuttering all the more in consequence.

When Brains finally stumbled to the end of his sentence Sir Reuben was quiet for a moment. Then he laughed.

"You're not a very good liar, Hiram. But you can drop the pretence now. You see, I know _exactly_ why you and your friends are here."


	19. Chapter 19

_Just a short chapter this time. It's been a hard one to write - literally, since I've got a suspected fractured elbow! It's been a horrendous week - my father got taken into hospital last Saturday, then I ended up in A&E a few hours later. We're both on the mend now, thankfully._

_Thanks for the reviews of the last chapter especially Sunny and Whirlgirl who I can't reply to personally. _

Chapter Nineteen

Brains had rarely been so grateful for his stammer. Even without one he'd have been floundering for words at this point, but at least he had a genuine excuse for delaying his response. His brilliant mind raced, considering all the probabilities. What did Sir Reuben know? His first panicked thought had been that he'd discovered they were part of International Rescue. He, Scott and Lady Penelope would be disposed of and Thunderbird Four would be lost forever. He dreaded to think what the consequences would be for the rest of the organisation.

He forced himself to calm down. After all, there was another possibility. Maybe things weren't as bad as they seemed. But how had the man found anything out in the first place? Brains had been so careful. They all had. Maybe it was Scott or Lady Penelope who had given the game away... Maybe Freddy had been onto them from the start, stringing them along in order to lure them to his uncle's island base... Right now it wasn't important. All that mattered was what Sir Reuben said next. Forcing himself to meet the eyes of the man who had been gazing coldly at him all this time, he finally managed a feeble reply.

"I-I-I d-d-don't-"

Sir Reuben might have been patient enough to wait for Brains to speak, but it seemed he couldn't quite bring himself to listen to the genius's clumsy and incoherent attempt to bluff his way out.

"I think it's going to be a lot quicker if you let me do the talking, don't you?" He waved Brains into a chair, waiting until he was settled, somewhat nervously, in position.

"You're here under false pretences. You're supposedly working for me but in reality you're working for Scott Tracy and my nephew. You're planning on using my facilities for the next few months while you design some new products for them. Am I right?"

Brains took a deep breath, more relieved than he'd ever been in his life. Taking a moment to settle himself he realised that his hands, clutching at the arms of the chair, were shaking. They hadn't been discovered. Well, they _had,_ but they could deal with this particular turn of events. It brought its own set of problems of course - he wondered how on earth they were going to find Thunderbird Four if they were thrown off the island, as surely they would be.

Sir Reuben picked up where he'd left off when Brains just sat there in silence. "Of course I'm right. I know everything that goes on here: what people say, what they do, even what they _think_. I worked for MI5, remember."

Brains tried to look suitably shocked at the revelation that the work area was under surveillance. Even so, he couldn't help thinking that something wasn't right. The only place they'd held detailed discussions about the new business was at Freddy's house, but Penny had scanned the building for bugs and found nothing. Maybe Sir Reuben had done things the old-fashioned way and stationed someone outside to spy on them – it had been a hot night and all the windows had been wide open, their conversation clearly audible. He wondered if Freddy, Scott, Penny and Sahara had also been confronted by Sir Reuben, or whether their turn was yet to come.

He listened silently as Sir Reuben played him a snatch of the conversation which his spy had recorded. Freddy was outlining the timeline for the new business, clearly somewhat the worse for wear after several drinks. He then launched into a vicious but - in Brains' opinion at least - completely accurate appraisal of his uncle's shortcomings, from his appearance through to his character. His audience - Brains included - had laughed. He couldn't help regretting it now as the man in front of him moved closer. Sir Reuben might be overweight and out of condition, but his bulk was intimidating.

Rather surprisingly in Brains' view, Sir Reuben was smiling as he cut off the playback. "My nephew has a particularly low opinion of me," he said. "No surprises there, I assure you. This isn't the first scheme he's concocted to get himself away from here. They've all come to nothing of course. I don't think he even realises I've been the one to put a stop to them. I can't let him go, you see, much as I'd like to be rid of him. He knows too much about what goes on here. No, I'm afraid this business won't get off the ground. Freddy's about to hit a cash flow problem. Much like your friend Scott Tracy did."

Brains said nothing, wondering why Sir Reuben was telling him this. He wasn't left in suspense for long.

"Tomorrow Mr and Mrs Tracy will be leaving," Sir Reuben said. "A shame to cut short their honeymoon, and I wouldn't want to be in that young man's shoes when his wife finds out about all this. But what about you, Hiram? It can't be any surprise to you to know that I'd like you to stay. I've been trying long enough to get you here."

"I-I won't stay without S-Scott," Brains said forcefully, playing his part even though he knew there was no way he was leaving until he'd found some trace of Four. But having made such a fuss about not wanting to come to the island without a friend to support him, he could hardly pretend to be happy about being left alone now. "H-he and I a-are old f-friends. W-we-"

Sir Reuben laughed. "A friend who intends to make a fortune from your inventions just as his father did. What percentage of the profits will you get, Hiram? Ten? Fifteen? No more, I'm sure. It's hardly fair, is it? Haven't you done enough for the Tracys?"

Brains pretended to look thoughtful before shaking his head. "I-I don't want to m-make weapons."

"You're talking as if you have a choice," Sir Reuben told him, smiling coldly. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a piece of paper. "Recognise this?"

Brains certainly did. One of the first things he'd had to do as an employee of RMC was to fill out the necessary paperwork, including the signing of a contract in which he agreed to work a six-month trial period. Sahara had promised him she'd make sure the paperwork was never filed. It appeared she'd let him down. Intentionally or not, Brains wasn't sure, and he found himself wondering where the woman's loyalties really lay. He already knew Sir Reuben's people were amongst the best when it came to communications, but the clarity of the recording he'd just heard suggested that the person who'd made it had been right there in the room at the time.

Sir Reuben set the contract down on the workbench and sat down heavily in the chair opposite Brains. "I'm going to make you an offer," he said. "I really don't have to, you know. I could insist you honour the contract. You could refuse of course, but I'd make sure you and Mr Tracy were tied up in legal battles for the foreseeable future. You'd have no chance of making any money for him – anything you created would be claimed by RMC. How would you cope if you couldn't work, Hiram? What else would you do with your time? Women? Travel? I don't think so, somehow. There's only one thing in your life, isn't there? Some people might pity you, you know, but I admire your dedication to your work. I share it myself.

"I have something that will interest you, Hiram. A special project, something only my best people are trusted to work on. Who knows, when your trial period is up you might even decide to stay."

Brains forced himself to look unconvinced, trying to hide the flash of excitement at the thought that Sir Reuben might want him to work on Thunderbird Four.

"W-what k-kind of p-project?" He was proud of the note of uncertainty in his voice.

"Well," Sir Reuben said, heaving himself to his feet and turning towards the door, "I can't tell you too much right now. Not until I'm sure I can rely on your discretion. But I have a little taster for you."

He banged on the door and it immediately opened. A man in a lab coat entered, carrying a set of components which Brains immediately recognised as part of Four's guidance system.

"I can't tell you much about this," Sir Reuben said. "But I'm sure it will intrigue you as much as it does me. Perhaps you'd like to take a look at it, find out exactly how it works. Consider it your first task as an RMC employee."

Brains couldn't wait to tell Scott they finally had proof of Four's presence on the island. Now it didn't matter that Scott and Penny would be forced to leave. In fact, it made things easier in terms of alerting Jeff Tracy and the British authorities. After all the worry it was going to be a simple matter to sort everything out.

He should have known it wasn't going to be that easy.

"Thomas will stay with you until your friends have gone," Sir Reuben said as he stepped through the door. "Just as a precaution. I'd hate to think you'd tell Mr Tracy about this little device. Thomas, you know what you have to do."

"I won't let him out of my sight, Sir." The man saluted as Sir Reuben left the room, confirming Brains' suspicion that lab coat or not, this was no scientist, rather one of Sir Reuben's hitherto unseen security guards. He turned back to Brains. "Don't mind me. I'll just sit over here and let you get on with it."

Brains turned back to the workbench. Sir Reuben's people probably hadn't made a huge amount of progress in reverse-engineering Four if they'd only got as far as stripping down the guidance system. He guessed they'd be under pressure to get results, explaining Sir Reuben's decision to get him involved at this early stage in his RMC career. But right now that wasn't his most pressing concern. All he could think about as he pretended to scrutinise the components in front of him was how he was going to get word to Scott.


	20. Chapter 20

_Thank you so much for all the messages and good wishes - my arm's a lot better now. Dad had a bit of a setback and needed a minor operation but he's doing well now, so hopefully all this will soon be over. Thanks for the reviews too, they're always very much appreciated. Whirlgirl, Sunny, Rachel - can't reply to you in person so a special thank you to all of you. Bee_

Chapter Twenty

John took one last look around as he waited for Thunderbird Three to dock. He always had mixed emotions at the end of a rotation up on Five - his pleasure at the thought of fresh air and real, physical human company instead of a face the other end of a vid-screen, not to mention the prospect of his grandmother and Kyrano trying to outdo each other in preparing his favourite meals, was always tinged with a reluctance to leave his 'bird, believing that Alan could never quite match up to his own abilities. Not necessarily fair on his brother, he knew, but Five was _his_ 'bird, not Alan's and he honestly believed she didn't perform as well for anyone else. Even if Gordon hadn't been calling him at least three times a day to vent his frustrations, he'd have completely understood how his brother felt about losing Four.

Then Alan was docking and he hurried to the airlock to greet him. He'd been a little surprised when his father had insisted on going ahead with the changeover. International Rescue was stretched to the limit at the moment with Scott and Brains away and Virgil still not back to full fitness, so John had assumed he'd be asked to stay put until they could spare a couple of bodies to make the trip up in Thunderbird Three. However, after a particularly chaotic rescue the previous day, followed by yet another attempt by Gordon to delay the construction of the new submarine until they were absolutely certain they wouldn't be getting the old one back, his father, who was becoming increasingly stressed as time went by and there was no word from Scott, had decided enough was enough and that he wanted his calm, dependable second-born back on Tracy Island, for the sake of his own sanity if nothing else. John knew his father wasn't the only one concerned about the lack of communication from the others - it was getting to him too, and Five was now programmed to pick up even the most tenuous reference to Scott, Penny or Brains, along with anything to do with the McAllisters and their organisation. But there had been nothing.

Alan had suggested automating Five, but his father had insisted someone be on hand just in case of any problems. He hadn't been happy about being the one who had to monitor everything, but he'd had little choice in the matter since Virgil had pointed out that John would soon be needed for the installation of the communications systems on the new Thunderbird Four.

It came as no surprise to John to see that his brother was missing his usual smile when the airlock door opened. Tin-Tin stood beside him but at least she looked reasonably pleased to see him.

"How are things at home?" John asked, once Alan had unloaded his bags and slung John's carelessly into Three.

Alan shrugged. "You'll see for yourself in a couple of hours."

"That bad?"

"Everyone's stressing out. Grandma's having one of her mad cleaning binges. You know, like she always does when she's worried and trying to take her mind off things. Virg is sulking because he misses Scott - don't know what's so bad about being left with me and Gords anyway - and he can't take it out on his piano because Grandma's locked the lid and hidden the key."

"Caught him playing two-handed again, did she?"

"Yeah. Virg reckons he's okay but Grandma insists that since Brains told him not to use his arm until the end of the week, that's how it's going to be whether he likes it or not."

"What about Gordon?"

"Putting a brave face on it, but he's desperate for news about Four. I thought the rescue yesterday would have done us all some good, or at least given us something else to focus on, but all it's done is make everyone feel even worse."

"Was it really that bad?"

"Mr Tracy is worried about Scott," Tin-Tin interjected. "I've told Alan not to take it personally."

"He said in the debrief that Scott would have handled things differently. Then when Virg tried to back me up Dad said he was only agreeing with me because I saved his life when he was shot. Didn't go down well with either of us... Grandma called us into dinner before things got out of hand but Dad spent the rest of the evening in his study with a bottle of whisky for company. Honestly, John, I think I'm actually glad to be stuck up here for a while."

John couldn't help looking longingly back up the corridor which led to the control room. "I think I'd rather stay here myself... Look, Al, I've programmed Five to listen out for anything which might relate to the McAllisters or our guys. If anything comes through you need to-"

"I understand, John. I can do this, you know."

"I know. Just humour me, okay?"

Alan sighed as John ran through his programming. "I'd have thought they'd have got word to us by now. Apart from that phone call to Virg to say they'd got there safely there's been nothing."

"We know how good RMC's technology is," John reminded his brother. "Scott used the code word to tell Virgil they were being monitored, so we know they can't go running around and sending out messages whenever they want to. We shouldn't worry just because there's been no news yet. We know it might take a while."

"John's right," Tin-Tin said, earning herself a grateful smile as Alan turned towards her.

Leaving them to say their goodbyes John went back to the control room for a final check. There was still nothing from Scott or the others and, despite his reassurances to Alan, he couldn't help thinking that there really should have been word by now.

* * *

><p>John and Jeff weren't the only ones irritated by the lack of communication from those on Sir Reuben's island. Scott, Penny and Brains were probably even more frustrated, especially Brains, who had rarely encountered a security system he couldn't master within an hour. McAllister's was seemingly impregnable - at least, Brains thought he could break through, but the alarm would be raised in seconds. There would be no time to take advantage of any break in the system and in any case, the breach would be traced back to him instantly. Now of course he couldn't even continue his efforts to find a solution. Not with Thomas watching his every move. Instead he turned his attention to the piece of Thunderbird Four which lay on the workbench in front of him, trying to decide whether he should make quick work of analysing it in order that Sir Reuben might bring him in on the project proper and take him to the missing 'bird, or whether he should stall and hinder progress on replicating Four's technology for as long as he could. Either way, with Thomas in the lab, he had to at least pretend to be working. He just hoped he'd be able to get some word to Scott before Sir Reuben threw him off the island. Surely they'd be allowed to say goodbye - maybe then he'd find some way of telling his friend what he needed to know.<p>

Scott and Penny were surprised when, upon arriving at the villa for their evening meal, they were intercepted by Sahara.

"Sir Reuben wants you to have dinner with him," she told them.

Exchanging glances as it became clear this wasn't so much an invitation as an instruction, the pair followed the girl through the house and into Sir Reuben's dining room. They'd wondered if Freddy and Sahara would be joining them, but the table was set for three, Sir Reuben himself already seated.

"Sit down," he barked as they hesitated. He didn't rise from his seat, offending Penny with his lack of chivalry, even as she muttered some Lola-style pleasantries as she sat down in the chair Scott pulled out for her.

"Just the three of us?" Scott asked when he too had sat down.

"I sent my nephew to London this afternoon. He won't be back until you've gone."

"He'll be gone some time then?" Scott asked uncertainly, casting a glance at Penny. They'd wondered what was going on when a helicopter had taken off earlier that afternoon. "We hadn't planned on going just yet."

Sir Reuben smiled coldly. "No, well, I don't suppose you'd planned on me discovering what you were up to either, had you?"

Like Brains just an hour previously, Scott and Penny held their breath as they waited for Sir Reuben to elaborate. They too were utterly relieved to discover their cover story had held, even as it became clear they had no hope of remaining on the island.

"You can't force Brains to stay!" Scott told him.

"I'm not," Sir Reuben told him, reaching for the salt. "He signed a contract. He agreed to stay here of his own free will. He accepts the situation. I'm afraid you'll have to do the same."

"Scott?" There was an angry edge to Lola's voice. "I thought you said you'd got everything under control."

"I thought we had," Scott said. "I guess I should have taken Freddy more seriously when he warned me about this guy."

"Look on the bright side," Sir Reuben said. "You've had a few days here at my expense. Call it a wedding present. Anywhere particular you want to be taken tomorrow or will London do?"

Despite knowing it was pointless, Scott tried to persuade the man to let them stay. But Sir Reuben assured him that Brains would cope without him and that the contract was watertight. Lola tried too, but no amount of pleading could change his mind. They were finally escorted back to their beach house with the instruction to pack their bags and be ready to leave at nine the next morning, when a helicopter would arrive to take them away.

After a short but bitter argument for the benefit of the listening devices, in which Scott managed just a few words but Lola said plenty, the pair set up their shielding apparatus and began a whispered conversation about the situation.

"Maybe we can get back to the house and catch up with Brains," Scott suggested.

"I don't think we'll be able to," Penny told him. "While you were setting this up I looked out of the window. There's a man watching the house. We can't risk anything."

"Great," Scott grumbled, glancing up at the window to check the curtain was fully drawn. Happy that no one could see them huddled on the floor apparently surrounded by pieces of Lola's hairdryer, he turned his attention back to the problem at hand.

"It's all up to Brains, then," he finally said. "As long as he can keep his nerve he'll be okay. If this project Sir Reuben said he's got him working on turns out to be Four then maybe all this will be for the best."

"Maybe," Penny said. "I just wish we'd had a little more success ourselves. I don't like feeling as though I've failed."

"What will you do while we're waiting to hear from Brains? Go back to your original mission?"

"Tracking down the murderer of Randolph Pemberton? Yes, I suppose so. I'm hoping Parker will have made some progress whilst I've been away."

"I suppose I should think about getting a divorce," Scott mused. "Doing all this under my real name has its drawbacks."

"So you don't want to be married to me?" Penny looked hurt.

Scott blushed, mumbling that he just didn't want to spend the rest of his life with Lola. Taking pity on him Penny rose to her feet and turned off the shielding device. Pretending to have just come back into the room she made a point of throwing a blanket at Scott, yelling loudly enough to be heard by the guard outside that he'd be sleeping on the couch that night - after he'd packed her things as well as his. Then the bedroom door slammed shut and Scott was left alone.

* * *

><p>Brains too had wondered if it would be possible to sneak out and rendezvous with Scott and Penny. But Thomas was nothing if not reliable and when Brains peeked out of his room in the early hours of the morning, the man was sitting in a chair across the hallway, still wide awake.<p>

"Going somewhere?"

"B-Back to the l-lab," Brains said, disappointed but not surprised at this turn of events. "I-I had an i-idea."

Thomas was clearly used to Sir Reuben's people working at all hours of the night and he said nothing as he followed Brains to his lab, taking up his usual seat by the door and watching intently as Brains began work.

* * *

><p>The next morning Sahara came to escort Scott and Penny up to the helipad. She apologised for the failure of their scheme and bemoaned the fact that she'd be losing out on her cut in the profits, but Scott and Penny weren't convinced by her show of innocence. Sir Reuben had blamed Freddy for giving the game away, but Scott knew the man could keep a secret and he didn't think he'd risk losing everything by letting something slip to the uncle he despised. He couldn't help wondering whether Freddy too was being monitored, or whether someone - Sahara for instance - had betrayed him. Part of him felt sorry for the other man, wondering what would happen when he returned to find his plans in tatters and his uncle keen to vent his fury.<p>

"I'm really not happy about leaving without seeing Brains," he said for the third time.

Sahara smiled at him. "I told you, you can see him for a minute before you go. He's busy. Sir Reuben wants him to make up the time he's wasted working for you and Freddy."

"This isn't right," Scott said. "When I get home I'm going to have my lawyer-"

"Sc-Scott!"

Scott turned to see Brains running up the path, genuinely relieved at the sight. He'd been seriously worried about him, despite Penny's assurances that Sir Reuben would want to keep him happy in order to get the best out of him. Scott couldn't argue with that, but he knew how anxious the genius could become, even when he wasn't engaged in a secret mission, let alone having to face the prospect of being left alone with the infamous if hitherto unseen Marcus Ivins.

"You okay, Brains?" he asked. "I'm really sorry about all this. Guess I shouldn't have rushed into this without getting someone to look over the paperwork."

Brains smiled as Scott continued to assure him that he'd take legal advice and see what he could do to get him out of this situation.

"I-it's quite alright, S-Scott. I-I believe I'll be quite h-happy here."

"Really?" Scott took a good look at his friend, but Brains' face was impassive.

"Y-Yes. Sir R-Reuben has some fascinating p-projects for me to w-work on."

Scott couldn't help noticing the large man who'd accompanied Brains to the helipad take a step forward at this comment, but when Brains failed to elaborate he seemed to relax.

"It's only six months," Scott said. "Just a delay in our plans, huh?"

"M-Maybe."

"Brains?"

"G-goodbye, Scott." Brains held out his hand for Scott to shake.

"You're sure this is what you want?"

"I-I'm sure. G-Goodbye Mrs T-Tracy."

"Whatever." Penny had decided that Lola would be unhappy at the failure of her plans, not to mention Brains' apparent delight in his unexpected new job. She turned her back on him, shielding her eyes with her hand as she gazed up at the sky.

Scott released Brains' hand, meeting his friend's eye for a moment before nodding and wishing him well.

"Any messages?" he asked.

"T-tell G-Gordon, 'Happy B-Birthday'."

"Sure will." It wasn't Gordon's birthday, but Scott had a feeling the tiny component Brains had passed him as they'd shaken hands might just be the best present his brother had ever had. He was desperate to take a look to see if it really was part of Thunderbird Four, the proof they needed that she was there on the island, but that would have to wait until no one was watching.

With a final goodbye Brains turned back to the house.

"Sir Reuben wants to see you," Sahara told him. "Thomas will take you to his office."

Scott watched until his friend had gone into the house. "Where's this helicopter then?" he asked Sahara.

"Won't be long," she told him. "I think I can hear it now."

Sure enough within a few minutes their transport had arrived.

"Time to go," Sahara said as the helicopter dropped down and the blades stopped turning. "It was nice meeting you, Scott." She ignored Lola completely.

"You too," Scott said, determined to keep up the pretence to the end. "Tell Freddy I'll be in touch - and tell him I'm sorry for the way things worked out."

"I'll do that," Sahara promised. "Poor old Freddy. Things never go right for him."

Scott watched as a man disembarked from the helicopter. Sahara went over to greet him, clearly pleased to see him. He glanced over at Scott and Lola for a moment then turned back to Sahara, leaning in to mutter something to her.

Penny had been watching Brains walk back to the villa. She too had picked up on the birthday reference, delighted that Brains had apparently managed to find Thunderbird Four. Now all they had to do was get back to London and plan a raid on the island. Within forty-eight hours it would all be over. She didn't realise Sahara and her friend were approaching her as she turned to speak to Scott.

As she caught the man's eye she had to fight to keep control. She knew him. This was the man she'd been searching for, the man who she believed to be responsible for the death of the former head of MI5. Praying he wouldn't recognise her, she half-smiled and nodded at him before calling out to Scott, her Kansas accent more pronounced than it had ever been.

"Come on, honey. I just can't wait to get back home."

"Sure," Scott smiled, wondering why Penny was snuggling up to him so tightly. Deciding it was one last attempt to annoy Sahara he thought nothing more of it. Leading her up to the helicopter he helped her in, securing her safety belt before settling in himself.

Penny stared anxiously out of the window wondering if she could somehow alert Scott without arousing the suspicions of the pilot. Sahara and the new arrival were talking animatedly and as she watched, Sahara turned back to the aircraft. Fully expecting her to announce that the game was up, she was astonished when instead the woman just waved at the pilot to take off. Hardly able to believe she'd got away with it, she held her breath as the helicopter lifted off. She didn't relax until the island was just a distant speck in the ocean.

"You okay?"

She turned to see Scott staring at her, clearly concerned. "I'm fine," she smiled. "Really."

"Me too," Scott told her, opening his hand after he'd checked the pilot was focused on his controls. Looking down Penny saw a tiny computer chip. It meant nothing to her, but from the smile on Scott's face she guessed he'd recognised it as part of Thunderbird Four. Raising her eyebrows, she smiled back as he nodded.

"Let's go home," he said and she squeezed his hand, delighted at the success of their mission.


	21. Chapter 21

_A bit late, but I got there in the end. No drama in real life this week (thankfully!). A big, big thank you to everyone who reviewed. Bee_

Chapter Twenty One

Brains watched through a window as the helicopter carrying Scott and Penny left. Wondering what would happen now, he allowed Thomas to lead him through a part of the house he'd not previously seen but which, from the lavish furnishings and decor, he assumed to be Sir Reuben's private quarters. As Thomas knocked on a door, opening it when he heard a muffled response, Brains saw that his assumption was correct. Sir Reuben sat behind a large desk, various papers spread out in front of him.

"Come in, Mr Hackenbacker," he said.

Brains moved to take the seat the other man indicated, wondering why he was now 'Mr Hackenbacker'. Yesterday evening, when Sir Reuben was making it plain that he had the upper hand, Brains had been 'Hiram'. Perhaps now the man believed he had what he wanted he was willing to show a little more respect to his newest employee.

"Said goodbye to your friends?"

Brains nodded.

"So, now that your talents are solely at my disposal, why don't you tell me what you make of that device I gave you to look at."

"I-It's interesting..." Brains had spent much of the night weighing up his options, finally deciding that since Scott and Penny had got safely away from the island with proof of Thunderbird Four's presence, he might as well do his best to actually locate the craft before the island was raided. It would speed things up and Brains didn't want any delays. Uneasy at being alone with his enemies, he just wanted to go home as quickly as possible.

Brains launched into a complex explanation of the machinery and the way it operated. Sir Reuben was clearly impressed and Brains took the chance to ask if the man had any more equipment he needed help with.

"I'll expect you to come up with some inventions of your own eventually," Sir Reuben told him. "But since my other project is a little more urgent I think I'll put you to work on that. You can-"

There was a sharp rap at the door.

"I said I didn't want any interruptions," Sir Reuben growled as Sahara came in.

"I'm sorry," she said. "Something's come up. I need to talk to you."

Brains turned to look at her, wondering why she looked so anxious. He felt a momentary pang of fear that they'd been discovered, then calmed as he realised that if they had been, there was no way Scott and Penny would have been allowed to leave.

"Brains, I'm sorry, but would you mind leaving us alone?" she asked. "I know you've got plenty to get on with."

"Of c-course," he said, getting up and leaving with a last, curious look back at the pair.

Thomas was waiting outside and he walked Brains back to his lab. Brains was a little surprised to see him, since he'd assumed that once Scott and Penny had gone his guard would have been called off, but once they reached the lab the man said a curt goodbye and went on his way. Relieved, Brains lost himself in his work, writing up the specs for the guidance system and hoping that he'd soon have something else to work on.

* * *

><p>Sahara had watched Brains walk down the corridor. Once he'd turned the corner she moved quickly to the other end of the passageway, returning seconds later with the man who'd just arrived on the island. Sir Reuben had clearly guessed that she didn't bring good news, snapping at her as she closed the door,<p>

"What's going on?"

"We've got a problem." It was the new arrival who spoke. Eric Younger was the man Penny had been chasing, the main suspect in the murder of the former head of MI5. "That woman who just left... It took me a while to work out where I'd seen her before. It's bad news, Reuben: she's working for MI5."

Sir Reuben stared at him. Gold-digging, sharp-tongued Lola Tracy a secret agent? Long years in the secret service where false identities were commonplace meant he didn't laugh or dismiss the suggestion as impossible. He wasn't even surprised that he was under investigation - he'd been involved in too many illegal arms deals over the years, not to mention his involvement in Randolph Pemberton's murder, the only sure means of silencing a man who'd once been his friend but who had discovered his guilty secrets and was about to expose him. He'd known it was only a matter of time before someone tried to infiltrate his island base. What bothered him now was that they'd succeeded - and at the worst possible time, given the presence of Thunderbird Four.

"Who is she?" he asked, his mind racing as he considered the possibilities.

Sahara handed him a picture she'd found on the internet. It had originally been printed in a society magazine and showed Penny in her Ascot best standing beside the Prince of Wales. "Would you believe Lady Penelope Creighton-Ward?"

Sir Reuben gazed at the picture. The woman he looked at was blonde, better dressed, and wore a lot less make-up than Lola Tracy, but the similarity was obvious. "I've heard of her," he said slowly. "Never met her, though - I'd left MI5 before she got involved. Heard something about a pink Rolls Royce..."

"She's become something of a legend," Younger told him. "To look at her you'd never believe she was involved with the secret service, but she's good. I knew she was working on Pemberton's murder but I really thought I'd got away with it. She must be on to you too, Reuben. That's why she was here."

Sahara wasn't happy as she tried to work out how they'd been deceived. "I swear I checked out Lola properly. There was nothing to suggest she wasn't who she said she was. Whoever set up her cover is good. Really good. But even so, if she's a fake, what about Scott Tracy? There's no question that he's the real thing. Who's he working for?"

"Don't forget Hackenbacker," Sir Reuben growled. "How is he involved in all this?"

"Do you want me to have him questioned? I don't think it would take much to break him."

Sir Reuben leaned back in his seat, lost in thought for a moment. Finally he looked up at Sahara.

"Leave him for now."

"But he's working on Thunderbird Four. If he guesses where that machinery came from..."

"Doesn't matter," Sir Reuben told her. "He'll never get the chance to tell anyone. But right now he's playing along with us. We can use that. As long as he thinks everything's going his way we might get a chance to find out what he's up to, or at least to see how much he knows about us. Have security monitor him - quietly. Let him think we trust him."

"You want him to carry on working on Thunderbird Four, don't you?" Sahara couldn't believe Sir Reuben's audacity. With the island likely to be raided at any moment he was still pressing ahead with his biggest business deal.

"I need his expertise. Leave him to me, Sahara. I'll handle him. Tell Thomas to bring him up here again once we're sure our other guests are secure."

Sahara didn't look entirely convinced but she had to admit Sir Reuben usually knew what he was doing. "Okay. What do you want me to do about the others?"

"Have them diverted to our North Atlantic facility. I'm sure our people there can handle the interrogation."

"I'll tell the pilot now."

"One more thing," Sir Reuben told her. "Call my nephew. I want him back here now. This is all his fault. Either he's even more of a fool than I thought or he's in on this himself. I wouldn't put it past him to sell me out."

Sahara doubted Freddy would try anything like that. As much as he hated his uncle, he stood to lose too much if the man was brought down. But, like Sir Reuben, she had a sneaking suspicion that if there was a deal to be made Freddy might seek immunity from prosecution in return for exposing his uncle's - and her own - criminal activities. She too would feel happier knowing he was safely back where she could keep an eye on him.

* * *

><p>They'd been flying for over an hour now and all the concerns Penny had regarding her possible discovery by Eric Younger had faded. She hadn't been able to tell Scott what was on her mind, the pilot's presence meaning that they had to be careful. When she cast an occasional glance his way she could see that he too was deep in thought. He hadn't liked leaving Brains – and neither had she. They'd worried that it might be days before he could find something incriminating and get word to them, perhaps putting himself in danger as he did so. But now, with definite proof of Sir Reuben's involvement in the theft of Thunderbird Four safely tucked away in Scott's pocket, Brains would soon be out of there. It would be a straightforward matter of briefing the relevant people then sitting back and watching as the island was raided. What made things even better was that given the latest developments, International Rescue didn't need to get involved until they were called upon to retrieve their property; she could focus on the presence of the wanted man as the reason for the raid, her links to the secret organisation remaining hidden. Things really couldn't have worked out any better.<p>

As the pilot answered yet another call on his radio - a one-sided conversation as far as the passengers were concerned since all they could hear were his brief responses to whatever he was hearing in his headphones, Scott leaned across to Penny.

"Not long now," he whispered.

Penny smiled back at him, wishing once again that she could share the news about Younger. "It's a pity I couldn't have called Parker and asked him to meet us. We'll have to take a taxi."

"It won't kill you," Scott told her, amused by the hint of English aristocrat which had crept into Lola's voice. Then, as the helicopter suddenly began to lose altitude he turned to look out of the window.

"What's going on?" Penny asked.

"We're landing," Scott said, an edge of apprehension in his voice. He tapped the pilot on the shoulder. "What's happening? I thought we were heading for London."

"Engine trouble. I need to set her down on that island."

Scott hadn't noticed any issues with the helicopter and he'd had enough experience in all kinds of aircraft to recognise an unreliable engine when he heard one. "Sounds okay to me. What's the problem?"

The pilot didn't respond. Exchanging an anxious look with Penny, both immediately realising they were in trouble, Scott debated trying to overpower the pilot. But before he could do anything they were on the ground, armed men running towards them. The pilot pulled out his own gun as he motioned to them to get out.

"Leave that," he said as Penny reached for her bag. "Out you get... _Lady Penelope_."

Scott's head snapped around to stare at Penny. Not that she noticed, since she'd closed her eyes in despair the moment the pilot had started to say her name. In the face of the gun she was forced to do as she was told, pulling her hand back, wishing she'd been able to get hold of her compact. She wished even more that she'd been able to warn Scott about Eric Younger. Now their lives depended on them staying in role and she'd have no chance to tell him why they'd been discovered.

"What's going on? Who the hell is Lady Penelope? Get your hands off my wife!" Scott snapped as one of the guards grabbed Penny by the arm and pulled her out of the helicopter. When two of the other men took hold of him he made a futile attempt to pull away, for form's sake if nothing else, receiving a hard blow to the stomach for his trouble. Gasping for breath, he had no option other than to allow them to drag him inside a small building. A moment later he was reunited with Penny, the door slamming behind him leaving the pair of them trapped in a tiny windowless room from which there was clearly no escape.


	22. Chapter 22

_Sorry for the late update - this chapter really put up a fight. I'm going to post quickly before I lose my edits for a third time..._

Chapter Twenty-Two

After the tropical heat of Sir Reuben's island paradise, Scott and Penny's new surroundings came as a shock in more ways than one. They hadn't had much time to look around during the short walk from the helicopter to the place where they were being held, but they'd quickly worked out that they must have been brought to one of RMC's secret weapons testing sites. In the distance they'd seen a series of bullet-scarred walls, beyond which lay a large pile of rubble which had presumably once been a building. Even without the threat hanging over them it would have been one of the most depressing places either had ever seen.

They continued to play their parts as best they could in the desperate hope that their captors would believe they really were a pair of bewildered newly-weds whose honeymoon had just turned into a nightmare.

"What do you think you're doing?" Scott yelled through the locked door. "Is this some kind of kidnapping? Because if it is, you're wasting your time! You won't get a dollar out of me - or my father."

"Scott, what's going on? Why do they think I'm someone else?" Lola wailed. "Everything's gone wrong since I married you. I've had enough! I just want to go back to Kansas."

Finally they gave up and began to consider their options. Fully aware that there had been listening devices all over Sir Reuben's island, they didn't dare speak openly. Scott pulled Penny down onto the floor and they huddled together on the thin carpet, wishing their captors had at least seen fit to place a couple of chairs in the empty room.

Penny shifted so that she could whisper in Scott's ear.

"I'm sorry. I should have tried to find a way to tell you. I really thought it was going to be alright..."

Scott looked at her in some confusion. He'd rarely seen Penny look so distraught and he knew it wasn't just because they were being held captive by a group of people who'd already proven that they didn't care who they hurt - Virgil and Alan had already suffered at their hands, and they hadn't posed anything like the threat he and Penny did right now. He knew they were in for an unpleasant time of it as Sir Reuben and his people tried to discover what was going on. He guessed Penny had some idea as to how they'd identified her and he nodded at her to go on, turning his head back to let her whisper again.

"That man, the one who arrived just as we were leaving... He's the chief suspect in the murder of Randolph Pemberton."

Scott pulled away and stared at her again. On the one hand he couldn't help feeling more than a little relieved. Maybe the International Rescue connection hadn't been discovered after all. His greatest fear throughout all of this had been that the Tracys' involvement in the secret organisation would become public knowledge. He'd known he and Brains had taken a risk going in as themselves, but no one, not even John, had been able to come up with a better idea. But if the connection hadn't been discovered, he could still save IR - although he wasn't sure if he could save himself or Penny. As for Brains, well that all depended on how valuable he was to Sir Reuben.

Then a thought struck him. He was carrying a piece of Thunderbird Four. A tiny piece to be sure, but if his captors found it on him they might still make the link to International Rescue. Utterly relieved that he hadn't been tied up, he pulled the computer chip out of his pocket. There was only one possible hiding place - under the carpet - so while Scott pulled up the edge of one corner, sliding the chip underneath before stamping the carpet back down again, Penny covered the noise by launching into a bitter tirade against Scott, Sir Reuben and the men who'd captured her.

Their captors were either awaiting instructions or had decided to build up the tension by keeping them waiting. Either way, they were left alone for over two hours before a couple of men carrying guns strode into the room whilst another stood guard at the door.

"Come on, Tracy," one of them said, pulling Scott to his feet.

Penny grabbed hold of Scott's hand and tried to pull him back.

"Let go of him!" she yelled.

The second man turned to her and rolled his eyes. "You can drop the accent now, love. Oh, sorry, _Your Ladyship_. We'll be back for you later."

He pushed her so hard that she fell back on the floor, then, ignoring Scott's curses, helped his colleague drag the struggling man out of the room. When the door slammed shut Penny pulled herself back to a sitting position and gazed at the door in despair. She was under no illusions as to what Scott was about to face. It should be her, she thought. She was the one who'd been unmasked, she should be the one to be questioned. "I'm so sorry, Scott," she whispered. She'd said those words many times over the past couple of hours and every time Scott had told her that it wasn't her fault and that whatever happened, he wouldn't blame her. She hoped he'd say the same next time he saw her. Actually, she thought, she wouldn't care if he told her he'd changed his mind about it being her fault and he hated her for it, just as long as he was alive and capable of any speech at all.

* * *

><p>Scott almost choked when the ice-cold water splashed against his face, shocking him back to consciousness. Any hopes he'd had that his captors might try some of the more civilised methods of extracting information had been dashed within seconds of his arrival in the interrogation room, a hastily cleared storeroom judging by the few remaining boxes, one of which served as a seat for the man who fired question after question as four others took turns to try to beat the answers out of him. When he'd been capable of thinking clearly, before numerous blows to his face and body had left him floating in a haze of pain, he'd wondered why they hadn't simply injected him with something which would have left him with no option other than to tell the truth, but then he'd realised that his enemies had been unprepared for all this, clearly having had no time to come up with any strategy beyond beating the information out of him. Plus, if Scott wasn't very much mistaken, they were enjoying it.<p>

Before he could properly clear the water out of his nose and mouth, he was punched again. Spitting out a mouthful of blood, he gingerly prodded his teeth with his tongue, wincing as he discovered that at least three were coming loose. He wondered if these were the men who'd beaten up Alan. His brother had got off lightly, he thought, trying to prepare himself for the next blow.

"Why put yourself through all this?" his interrogator asked. "Tell us what we need to know and we'll stop. We know your _wife_ is really Lady Penelope Creighton-Ward. She's working for MI5, hunting the people who killed their ex-chief. But what about you, Scott? You're not MI5."

"Lola... my... wife," Scott whispered, the words punctuated by a sharp cough which only increased the pain from his damaged ribs.

"We _know_ she's your wife. Our man was at your wedding. But she's a fake. So what's your story?"

Scott shook his head. "Mixed her up... with someone... someone else."

"You're sticking to the 'mistaken identity' line? Even after all this?" He nodded to one of the men who immediately left the room. Scott braced himself for another round of punches, but at a signal from their commander the men holding him suddenly let go and he crashed to the floor, struggling for breath and trying not to show them how much he was hurting.

It was a welcome break from the torment but it didn't last long. The door soon opened again. Scott couldn't find the energy to open his eyes to see who'd come in, but when he heard a familiar voice cry out his name he knew they'd decided to turn their attention to Penny. He rolled over, moaning in spite of himself at the pain it caused him, and eventually managed to get his eyes to focus. Penny really was good, he thought, still trying to maintain her cover. From the tears in her eyes anyone would think she really did care for him.

"Lady Penelope..." the commander began.

"Lola!" Penny screamed. "Lola Tracy! I don't know who this other woman is. Oh God, Scott, what have they done to you?"

"Want us to show you?" The man smiled, signalling to his men to carry on where they'd left off.

Knowing Scott wouldn't want - or expect - her to give in, Penny closed her eyes, unable to watch as the beating began again. She couldn't block out the sounds though and it was more than she could bear. She pleaded with the men to stop, unsure if she was doing so as Lola or Penny, even though she still used Lola's voice. It didn't do any good. The men just laughed and Scott's torment continued. It took just a few minutes for Penny to break, though it seemed infinitely longer to her. She couldn't look at Scott or any of the other men in the room, dropping her head before reverting to her usual refined accent, though her voice was little more than a whisper.

"My name is Penelope Creighton-Ward. I'm an agent for MI5 and I've been investigating Randolph Pemberton's murder." Penny had never been as thankful for anything as she was at that moment, able to offer a genuine reason for the deception that didn't involve International Rescue.

"Thank you," the commander said, indicating that his men could let go of Scott. He crumpled to the floor and for a moment the only sound in the room was that of his strangled breathing.

The commander came to stand beside him. "You see, Tracy, I told you we'd get there in the end."

For the next ten minutes, Penny outlined her mission for MI5.

"Very good," the commander said when Penny came to the end of her story. "Although there's one thing I still don't understand."

Penny glanced over at Scott, still lying on the ground. The sight of him made her want to cry. She bit her lip to stop it from trembling as she looked her captor in the eye. "Scott?"

"That's right. How did you get Tracy involved?"

"I needed a cover story and a way to infiltrate RMC," Penny began. "He didn't know who I really was."

Scott finally managed to speak. "You're not... Lola?"

"Scott, I'm so sorry I tricked you. I needed to-"

"Oh, please," the commander groaned. "Cut the act, the pair of you. Save us some time here, Tracy; you'll save yourself a lot more pain, too."

Scott didn't care - he was in so much pain right now that he thought it would only take another blow or two to knock him out completely, beyond the reach of even the coldest bucket of water. Frankly, he welcomed the idea. But he should have known it wasn't going to be that simple.

The commander advanced on Penny once again, grabbing a handful of her hair and pulling it hard as he smiled across at Scott. "On second thoughts, I think you've suffered enough for now. I'm sure Penelope can tell us all about you. I'm guessing she's had some training in withstanding interrogation techniques; let's see if she can hold out as long as you."

Ignoring the agony that even the slightest movement caused him, Scott dragged himself upright as Penny began to struggle. Another man gripped her arms tightly, holding her steady as the commander raised his hand. Scott had known all along it would come to this, that he'd have to make the choice between preserving his cover and protecting Penny. But in the end the choice was easy. Before the man could strike a single blow, Scott coughed out a single word,

"Okay..."

He couldn't look Penny in the eye, knowing she would be pleading with him not to give in, not to betray International Rescue.

"Got something to say?" the commander asked, not moving from Penny's side even as he turned to look at Scott.

"Yeah... US... Military Intelli...gence."

Penny stared at him, trying to hide her surprise at Scott's attempt to deceive their captors. It could work, she thought. She just hoped they took his word for it.

The commander considered this for a moment. "I thought you left the Air Force to work for your father."

"Good cover..." Scott coughed up more blood.

Desperate to help him out, Penny had a flash of inspiration as her research into Sir Reuben's activities came back to her. "RMC weaponry was used by the terrorists who killed twenty British and American servicemen last year. MI5 has been working with the American authorities. When this opportunity to infiltrate Sir Reuben's base came up it made sense to launch a joint operation."

The man seemed satisfied with this, demanding a few more details from Scott before leaving the room with a final instruction to his men to lock the captives away whilst he reported back to Sir Reuben.

Penny did her best to support Scott as he stumbled along, but she couldn't stop him collapsing to the floor once they reached their destination. She begged for a first aid kit or at least a blanket, but the men who'd escorted them back just laughed, slamming the door and leaving her to tend to Scott as best she could.


	23. Chapter 23

_A big thank you for all the reviews of the last chapter. I was a bit nervous about it (I really didn't like hurting Scott like that) so it's good to know you thought it worked. _

_Thanks to everyone I can't reply to directly. Whirlgirl - things are much better now. Dad's fine and my arm's much better - still can't bend and straighten it properly but it's gradually getting there._

Chapter Twenty-Three

In London, a tired and hung-over Freddy McAllister had just arrived back at his flat after finally tearing himself away from the girl he'd picked up the night before. His phone rang as he fumbled for his key and he smiled as he saw Sahara's face appear on the screen.

"Hello," he said. "Missing me already?"

Sahara didn't smile back and Freddy hoped she didn't suspect what he'd been up to.

"Something's happened, Freddy. You need to come home."

"You're joking, right? I've only just got here." Freddy loved spending time in London - quite apart from the bars and the women, it meant he was well away from his uncle. It was going to take something pretty special to get him to leave after just one day, especially when he'd been given a long list of tasks which would take at least a week and which Freddy hoped to stretch out to two.

"Your uncle's been taken ill. It looks serious."

"Really?" Freddy couldn't stop the delighted grin from stretching across his face. "Like _on the point of death_ serious?"

"It's looking that way. I've arranged transport for you. Can you be at the airport in thirty minutes?"

"On my way!" Freddy signed off with another big smile. Even the prospect of a three hour flight with a killer hangover didn't bother him. Sahara wasn't prone to exaggeration and if she said his uncle wasn't long for this world then she was probably right. He wouldn't need Scott Tracy now. Not that he was particularly keen to sever the connection. He liked Scott and his business acumen would be useful. Whistling cheerfully, he flung a few possessions into a case and practically skipped back down the stairs and out of the door in search of a taxi.

* * *

><p>"You told him I was dying?" Sir Reuben wasn't impressed.<p>

"Guaranteed to bring him rushing home," Sahara told him. "You sent him to London for a week; he'd only wonder what was wrong if you called him back a day later."

"I suppose so. I have to say I'm looking forward to seeing what he's got to say for himself."

"He didn't know about all this," the girl insisted. "Not even Freddy's stupid enough to bring a couple of agents here. None of us suspected what they really were."

"The fact remains that if he hadn't been so keen to put one over on me they wouldn't have been able to get here at all."

"But he-"

Sir Reuben looked quizzically at her. "You always defend him, don't you? No wonder he likes you. I wonder what he'd say if he knew you were the one who told me about his deal with Tracy."

"Why do something like that? It might make you feel good, but next time he tries something like this I won't be able to warn you."

"I'm not so sure there will be a next time... Tell me, would you have gone along with this plan of his if you hadn't been so scared of what I'd do to you if you betrayed me?"

"Scared you'd let it be known that I helped kill Pemberton?"

"That amongst other things," Sir Reuben agreed. "Just remember that it's in your best interests to stay on my good side. I'll keep Freddy in the dark - for now. You're right, it might be best if he still trusts you."

"Thank you." Sahara could never quite work out her feelings about Freddy. He could be incredibly irritating and she got tired of having to get him out of awkward situations, but she couldn't help being fond of him. The island wasn't a particularly entertaining place to live, its inhabitants totally obsessed with their work. Freddy's presence was a welcome source of amusement and she enjoyed his attention - although she was under no illusions as to what he got up to on his forays away from the island. Not that she could claim the moral high ground in that respect - Eric Younger could certainly testify to that, and if she could have got her hands on Scott Tracy she would have.

"Have you got confirmation of Tracy's story yet?" Sir Reuben asked.

"Not yet. Peterson's on it but it might take a while to hack into the files. You know as well as I do that agents in deep cover aren't easy to trace."

Sir Reuben grunted in annoyed acceptance.

"You know, someone's going to be waiting for Scott or Lady Penelope to contact them," Sahara reminded him. "When they don't hear anything they'll come looking. It's not exactly the best time to have visitors, not when we're hiding a stolen Thunderbird."

"You're right; we can expect a raid at some stage. Make sure that only our less controversial projects are on show. We'll move everything else down to the lower levels and lock them down." He fell silent for a moment. "The timing bothers me, too. In a couple of weeks we'll need to bring in parts for the prototype sub, then there's the testing... I think we need to take control here, Sahara. I want the investigation over and done with by the time we're ready to start construction."

"What are you going to do? Make an appointment?"

"Not exactly. But when a controller loses an agent - or two - they tend to work fast to find out what went wrong."

"But they don't know they've lost an agent," Sahara pointed out.

"They will in a few hours. A tragic accident, of course, but these things happen."

Sahara listened carefully to the instructions Sir Reuben gave her. "That's all very well," she said once he'd finished. "But we're obviously linked to Pemberton's murder. We'll still be under investigation."

"They don't have proof, otherwise they wouldn't have come in undercover. Let me handle it, Sahara. I promise that neither of us will be charged with Pemberton's murder."

"Eric?" Sahara didn't like that idea, but then she liked the idea of a prison cell for herself even less.

Sir Reuben kept his face impassive, knowing what she was thinking. She was wrong, though. Eric Younger could still be useful to him. Unlike his troublesome nephew, who was just a liability. He'd promised his brother he'd look after the boy, but family loyalty could only go so far. If the need arose, it would be Freddy who'd take the fall for the murder. He wouldn't tell Sahara, though - the girl had as great a sense of self-preservation as he did, but she had a bewilderingly strong soft spot for Freddy and he wouldn't put it past her to warn him. He couldn't trust her on this one.

He realised Sahara was staring at him.

"Something wrong?" she asked.

"Just thinking about some loose ends. Have Hackenbacker brought up here. I think it's time I found out how he got himself involved in this."

"What are you going to do with him?"

"Frankly, I have no idea. It all depends on what he has to say for himself."

* * *

><p>John dragged himself out from under the console of New Four (as the half-finished submarine had come to be known), stretching his aching back as he got to his feet. At least the communications system was installed now. He'd grab a sandwich and have a swim, just to loosen up a bit, before coming back to test it out.<p>

The beeping of his watch stopped him as he reached the elevator. One look at his brother's panicked face and he knew they had a problem. "Al? What's wrong?"

"Scott's in trouble! That fake file you set up to suggest he was working undercover... Someone's just accessed it."

John leaned against the elevator doors, feeling slightly sick. It had been a last-minute thing, born of a conversation between himself and Scott the night before his brother had left. No one had been happy about the eldest son leaving himself open to exposure as a member of International Rescue and John had eventually suggested that if he got into trouble, he should claim to be an agent just like Penny. It hadn't been too hard for him to hack into the necessary systems and plant a false record, nor had it been a problem to ensure that if anyone did access those files, then Thunderbird Five would immediately be alerted. Quite what they were going to do if this worst case scenario ever took place had never been decided, but one thing John knew for sure was that if Scott had parted with that information then he, Penny and Brains were in serious trouble.

"Tell the others," John instructed. "Have them meet in the lounge in five minutes. We've got some decisions to make."

Nodding unhappily, Alan signed off, leaving John to run a shaky hand over his eyes before activating his watch for one of the most difficult calls he'd ever made.

"Parker? It's John Tracy. We've got a problem..."

* * *

><p>Penny watched miserably as Scott shifted slightly, moaning a little as he did so. He'd given in to the pain and exhaustion and fallen into a restless half-sleep within minutes of their return to the small room where they'd hidden the chip from Thunderbird Four. She'd never seen him so weak and vulnerable before and she'd never felt so helpless herself, unable to do anything other than hold his hand and offer words of comfort whenever he awoke.<p>

A sound at the door made her jump and she turned towards it as it opened. Biting her tongue to stop herself launching into a bitter verbal attack on her captors - not because it was an unladylike thing to do but because she feared they might take their anger out on Scott rather than her - she watched apprehensively as four of them came into the room.

"Get up!"

"Where are you taking me?" Penny tried to shake them off, turning back to Scott, her heart breaking at the cry of agony they elicited as they shook him awake and dragged him to his feet.

"You're going for a ride," one of the men said, marching her swiftly out of the building. Within minutes Penny was being strapped into a waiting helicopter. Scott was slumped in the seat next to her, having passed out before they were even halfway to the landing strip. One of the guards got in, keeping a gun trained on them as they took off.

Penny prayed they weren't going too far - if Scott woke up he was going to be in agony and she couldn't face watching him suffer any more. "Where are we going?" she asked tentatively.

No one answered.

* * *

><p>John sat at his father's desk, desperately trying to trace the person who had hacked into Scott's file. So far he'd had no success and he was reminded of the efforts he'd made to find whoever had falsified the data he'd collected during the fake rescue, the data that had convinced him there was nothing suspicious about the callout. He'd been bested then, though now of course he knew it was someone at RMC who'd been responsible. He guessed it was the same person this time, given his lack of success in tracing them. Not that anyone needed proof that Sir Reuben and his team had somehow worked out that Scott and Penny - he'd easily established that her MI5 records had also been hacked - were undercover. Where that left Brains was anyone's guess, but no one was feeling particularly optimistic right now.<p>

"We need to get to that island." Virgil was all for firing up the 'birds and launching a raid there and then. Jeff wasn't surprised at this frantic need for action on the part of a son who was usually level-headed and calm - after all, it was Scott who was in need of rescuing - but he couldn't allow it, however much he wanted to. Gordon was in full agreement with his brother, getting as far as the passenger elevator for Two before his father could persuade him that the last thing they needed was for International Rescue to go charging in.

"If he's told them he's working for the Air Force then they can't be onto IR," Jeff pointed out.

"But what did they do to make him give up that bit of information?" Virgil said darkly.

Jeff didn't want to think about that. "Virgil, don't-"

The phone rang.

Jeff ignored it.

Seconds later it rang again. This time Jeff picked up the receiver then dropped it straight back down.

He'd barely opened his mouth to speak when it rang for a third time.

"Will you please answer that!" It was so unusual for Grandma to snap, a clear sign of the stress she was under, that Jeff found himself picking up the phone.

"Jeff Tracy."

"Mr Tracy, I'm sorry to bother you..."

_Don't then_, Jeff thought, itching to put the phone down. This man had better not be trying to sell him anything.

"... I'm afraid I have some bad news for you. I'm Captain O'Connell, British Navy. My ship picked up a distress call from a helicopter out in the North Atlantic. The pilot reported engine trouble, said he was going to have to ditch in the ocean."

"What does this have to do with me?" Jeff asked. He already knew a helicopter had crashed. Alan had reported it to Base but father and son had reluctantly agreed that there was nothing International Rescue could do, not without Thunderbird Four.

"The helicopter was registered to RMC Technology. It was carrying three passengers: your son and his wife, along with a Mr Hackenbacker..."

Horrified glances were being exchanged across the lounge. John's fingers had slipped off his keyboard and he locked eyes with Virgil who had gone completely white. Grandma was clasping Gordon's hand whilst Jeff seemed to have aged ten years in the last few seconds.

"My son?" was all Jeff could manage, his throat suddenly so dry that all that came out was a whisper.

"By the time we reached the co-ordinates we were too late to be of any help. The helicopter broke up on impact. No one on board stood a chance.

"I'm so sorry, Mr Tracy."


	24. Chapter 24

_As always, I really appreciate all the support and feedback, especially since this story has turned out completely differently from the way I planned it. It's reassuring to know that you think it's working._

Chapter Twenty-Four

Gordon would never remember the next few minutes with any clarity. He had a vague recollection of a silence that lasted for what seemed like forever. Then, suddenly, everyone began talking or crying - and then the shouting began. Virgil insisted that Scott couldn't be gone, that he'd know if his closest brother was dead, that he'd be able to_ feel_ his absence_, _almost coming to blows with John when he quietly pointed out what everyone else was thinking - that there was no reason for Sir Reuben to keep either Scott or Penny alive once their true identities were revealed, that it would be safer for him to ensure that neither could ever tell the world what they'd discovered. Gordon vaguely remembered a tearful, shaking Grandma breaking up the argument, his father unable to do anything other than stare at the phone, despite the fact that the call had long since been disconnected. Alan's expression mirrored his father's, his shocked face magnified on the vid-screen, just heightening the nightmarish quality of the scene.

Brains' death hit everyone hard too. It seemed so pointless, so unfair. No one had believed he would ever be in danger - surely he was too great an asset to anyone to be murdered.

"They can't be dead," Alan said for the hundredth time, earning himself a look of utter gratitude from Virgil. "Not all three of them."

"They haven't found the bodies," Tin-Tin said hesitantly.

"They won't," Gordon told her, dragging himself out of the stupor he'd been in ever since the news had broken. "The currents are strong in that part of the Atlantic. Then there are the sharks... The best we can hope for is that they died in the explosion."

"Stop it!" Alan had clearly reached breaking point. "They can't be dead."

"Alan..." It was the first time Jeff had spoken and everyone fell silent. Rubbing a hand over wet eyes he looked at his youngest son. "I know how you feel. I feel the same way. But there was always the chance of something like this happening. They knew what they were getting themselves into. They-"

The vid-screen suddenly went blank, Alan clearly cutting the link to prevent the others seeing him completely lose control. They'd all got just a glimpse of his face before he hit the button and that was enough to send Tin-Tin over the edge. She ran sobbing from the room and the others could only hope she'd be able to re-establish contact with Alan and give the young man some comfort. No one wanted to think about what it would be like to be alone in space with no one to help them through their grief.

"We should go and get him," Gordon said.

"No."

Everyone stared at John in surprise. Surely he wasn't thinking of the strain on International Rescue's resources? What was the point now anyway? If a call did come in no one was going to be in a fit state to answer it.

"We need to sort things out here first," John said, making a visible effort to pull himself together. It was clear to everyone that he was thinking this should be Scott's job - or his father's. But one was gone and the other was barely able to function. He'd never wanted to take control like this, but if he didn't, they were all going to fall apart.

"Virgil, Gordon, take Thunderbird Two and fly over the crash site. There might be something left to salvage that the Navy missed." He'd kept his voice steady but his eyes told his brothers that he needed their support more than ever.

Virgil nodded, but he had his own condition. "I want to go to that island, too."

"Virgil..."

"I won't land; I won't even let them know I'm there. But at least let me scan the place. If they're alive they might be trying to contact us. There might be something..." He looked pleadingly at his brother. They both knew that if there was any kind of transmission, Thunderbird Five would pick it up. John wasn't sure if Virgil was hoping to see some kind of smoke signal or the word 'help' picked out in rocks on the beach, but he said nothing, knowing that Virgil would never accept Scott's death until every last flicker of hope was gone.

"Alright, but if you do find something you don't go rushing in. Just come back here and let us all decide what to do."

"Sure," Virgil muttered as he turned towards his chute, only to be stopped by John's hand on his arm.

"Virgil, promise me. Please? We can't lose anyone else."

John rarely begged and Virgil swallowed hard before meeting his brother's eye. "Okay, I promise. Now can I go?"

"Gordon flies," John said, releasing his brother's arm. "You're still not fit."

"You can do the scanning, Virg," Gordon told him. "It won't hurt your shoulder and I know you won't miss anything."

"Whatever. Now can we get going?"

"Come on." Gordon was glad to have something to do. As miserable as the flight was going to be, at least he'd have something to distract him. Anything had to be better than sitting in the lounge listening to Grandma quietly sobbing. As the panel in the wall began to flip, he turned his gaze to his father and remaining brother. The older man had collapsed back in his chair, his face grey and strained. John managed a weak smile before turning back to his keyboard and Gordon knew his brother was redoubling his efforts to find some trace of whoever had accessed Scott's records.

* * *

><p>No one apart from Virgil had any hopes of success, and they were right. There were tiny pieces of wreckage to be collected, though the bulk of what remained of the helicopter had already been salvaged by Captain O'Connell's crew. What they did recover was consistent with a massive explosion.<p>

One of the things they retrieved turned out to be the tattered remains of Penny's handbag. Virgil came back to the cockpit and tossed something small and charred onto the console. Gordon drew in a breath at the sight of Penny's compact, something she never let out of her possession.

"They really were on there," he said softly.

"Penny, maybe," Virgil said. "Doesn't mean Scott was."

Gordon didn't bother arguing as he set a course for Sir Reuben's island in response to his brother's insistent demands.

* * *

><p>The news that they'd found evidence that Penny had more than likely been on board the helicopter just added to Alan's misery. He was listlessly monitoring the airwaves hoping there would be no calls for help - there was no useful assistance International Rescue could offer right now. Even if Gordon and Virgil were despatched in Thunderbird Two they'd probably be more hindrance than help, neither brother being in any fit state to mount a rescue.<p>

He called Tin-Tin again - he'd spoken at length to his father and John and whilst he understood that no one could come and get him right now, it didn't make him feel any better. Tomorrow, John had promised, once everyone was a little more with it and able to cope with the demands of flying a rocket. What he'd have done without Tin-Tin to help him with his grief he didn't know. He still couldn't believe that he'd listened in to the helicopter's final moments, logging the initial Mayday, debating the pros and cons of a rescue attempt with his father, agreeing that there was nothing that could be done to help. He'd felt bad about it, but it was just one of those things - he'd quickly learned that if he was to keep his sanity in the rescue business he'd need to remain detached. But now, knowing that his brother and his friends had been on board... Once again he buried his head in his hands, barely able to cope with the loss of Scott. He'd been just a baby when his mother had died, had never felt the grief his father and older brothers had. Now he knew exactly what they'd gone through and he wondered how they'd ever survived it - and whether they'd be strong enough to do so again.

* * *

><p>Gordon hovered above Sir Reuben's island, high enough that no one was likely to detect Two's presence. He was exhausted. They'd been there an hour now with no sign of anything which might suggest that Scott, Brains or Penny were down there. Gordon had never believed they'd find anything, but Virgil had been adamant and Gordon hadn't had the heart to refuse him. It was getting ridiculous now, though, he thought. Time to force his brother to face facts.<p>

"Virg, we have to go."

"One more try."

"Virgil..."

"_Please_, Gords. I'm trying to pick up some trace of Four, or the watch they took from Alan."

"You already tried that. Twice. Come on, Virg, let's go home. Someone needs to pick up Al; it's not fair to leave him up there alone."

Virgil looked stricken, glancing between his brother and the screen in front of him before scrubbing a hand over his face. "Just let me finish this scan. Ten minutes, Gordon. That's all I need."

"No, Virg. Get strapped in, we're going home." With that, Gordon sent Thunderbird Two surging forward. He half-expected Virgil to try to wrestle the controls from him, but there wasn't so much as a murmur from his brother and he eventually risked a glance back to see Virgil slumped in his seat, staring blankly at the fading images on the scanner.

The journey home passed without a word.

* * *

><p>The atmosphere back on Tracy Island was just as bad as when Gordon and Virgil had left. Grandma was in the kitchen, her third batch of cookies just out of the oven, trying to handle her grief in the only way she could - by keeping busy. It took the edge off, as she knew from bitter experience: the loss of her husband, of Lucy... She'd thought she'd come to terms - eventually - with the concept of International Rescue, despite knowing that the chances of one of her grandsons dying before her had increased astronomically, but now that it had happened she realised she'd been totally unprepared. Maybe it was the fact that Scott had been murdered that made it so much harder to deal with. If he'd lost his life out on a rescue she'd at least have the knowledge that he'd died saving others to comfort her. But for him to be deliberately killed... it was too much to take.<p>

She grieved for Brains too. Grandma had always had a soft spot for the engineer, taking it upon herself to offer him some of the maternal comfort and support he'd never got the chance to experience as a boy. He'd shied away at first, but eventually he'd come to accept it and the pair had developed a strong friendship over the years. She was sorry about Penny too, of course, but their relationship had been less close. Even so, when she finally went back to her room only for her eyes to immediately settle upon the picture of Scott and Penny together, she'd broken down over the fate of the pair of them and the loss of everything that might have been.

Virgil and Gordon were surprised to see a suitcase sitting on the floor of the lounge. Their father still sat at his desk, looking just as broken as he had when they'd left. John, however, had changed out of his shorts and was now dressed more formally.

"Going somewhere?" Virgil asked, flinging himself down on the couch in exhaustion.

"London. Someone's got to liaise with MI5. They're launching an investigation, so I'm tagging along."

"You spoke to Penny's contact? What did he say?" Gordon knew that at least one person high-up in MI5 knew of Penny's connection with International Rescue. He was pleased that John had got permission to help with the enquiry. He didn't know much about MI5 but he knew that very little would get past his brother.

"MI5 want to speak to Sir Reuben, but there's no way of proving that it wasn't an accident. They're keeping the news about Penny quiet by the way - as far as the press are concerned it was Lola Tracy who died in the crash."

"I can imagine the headlines," Gordon said, bitterly. "They're going to love this, aren't they? Estranged Tracy heir and wife killed in tragic honeymoon accident." His voice cracked on that final word.

"Better that than the truth," John reminded him. "The phone hasn't stopped ringing since the news broke. Kyrano's handling the calls. I managed to get Dad to put a statement together but since then I haven't been able to get a word out of him."

Gordon and Virgil followed John's gaze across to their father. Jeff was still oblivious to the fact that his two sons had returned. A cold cup of coffee sat in front of him and for some reason that brought a lump to Virgil's throat. Nothing kept his father from his coffee. Scott was always telling him he drank too much...

"You okay, Virg?"

"No." Virgil pushed away Gordon's comforting hand and got to his feet. "I need some time alone." He was gone before his brothers could say anything.

"I hate leaving you," John said. "But I need to help with the investigation."

"I know," Gordon told him. "Take care of yourself. Call me if you need to talk."

"I've made a list of things that need doing," John said, before the conversation could take one of those emotional turns he always found so awkward.

Before he could say any more, Kyrano came in, hovering between the couch and the desk and clearing his throat apologetically.

"What's wrong, Kyrano? More trouble with the press?"

"No, Sir." Kyrano glanced nervously over at Jeff before continuing, his voice barely more than a whisper. "I have Sir Reuben McAllister on the line for Mr Tracy. He wishes to offer his condolences. I wasn't sure what I should tell him."

Gordon punched the arm of the couch before jumping to his feet. "Tell him to-"

"Gordon!"

Both John and Gordon shot round to face their father, neither man sure whether to be relieved that he'd finally snapped out of the daze he'd been in for the last couple of hours, or worried by the look of pure venom on his face.

"Put him through," Jeff ordered. Kyrano bowed his head before quietly disappearing from the lounge.

"Dad, do you think this is a good idea? He's probably trying to find out how much you know. What if he goads you into saying something about IR?"

Gordon actually took a step back at the force of the glare his father turned on him.

"I'm more than capable of keeping myself under control. If Scott died to keep our secret safe I won't do anything to make that sacrifice pointless. But I want to know what this man has to say."

As a light on the phone flashed, Jeff sat back down, took a second to compose himself, then opened the link.

"Mr Tracy." Sir Reuben looked suitably grave. "I appreciate you taking my call. Given that it was one of my company's helicopters that crashed, I imagine I'm the last person you want to speak to right now."

_You got that right,_ Jeff thought, unable to believe that he was talking to the man who might well have murdered his son. "I don't know what to say to you," he said honestly.

Sir Reuben bowed his head for a moment. "I'm so sorry for your loss. Your son and his wife were a lovely couple. I had a great deal of respect for Mr Hackenbacker too. It's a terrible tragedy."

"Where were they going?" Jeff asked, deciding that if Sir Reuben was going to keep up the pretence of not knowing who Scott and Penny really were then he might as well play along.

"They were on their way to join my nephew in London. You know he and your son were going into business together?"

Jeff nodded. When he said nothing more, Sir Reuben continued.

"I gather you and Scott had fallen out. It's such a shame you didn't have the chance to reconcile. Maybe it will comfort you to know that his last few days were happy ones. He was very fond of Lola."

"Thank you," Jeff said, suddenly itching to end the call. He couldn't listen to the man a moment longer. How could he be so brazen as to call him? Did he just want to enjoy seeing him suffer?

"Well," Sir Reuben said when the silence had become uncomfortable, "I just wanted to offer my condolences and to assure you that my company will carry out a full investigation into the crash."

"I'd like to know exactly what happened too," Jeff told him. The two men locked eyes for a moment. It was Jeff who looked away first, knowing he was about to crack.

"If there's anything I can do..." Sir Reuben smiled sympathetically. The sight sickened Jeff and he disconnected the call, slumping forward with his head in his hands.

"Dad?"

"I'm alright, John." Jeff looked up and shook his head as if trying to clear it. "You're going to London?"

"Yes." John didn't remind his father that he'd told him this at least half a dozen times. The fact that the man finally seemed to be aware of what was going on cheered him a little, even if he worried about how he was going to cope.

"Find something we can use to bring this man down," Jeff said. "I don't want my son to have died for nothing."

"I will, I promise."

"I'll hold you to that." Jeff met John's eyes for a moment before turning away. John stood in silence for a moment, reluctant to leave his family, before picking up his suitcase and striding out of the lounge. Gordon followed him a moment later, unable to stand the way his father's shoulders shook as he silently gave into his grief.

* * *

><p>Grandma stared at the mountain of food on the breakfast table. She'd been up since 5am and once again she'd taken refuge in the kitchen, not caring in the slightest that most of what she prepared would go to waste. She'd had to force everyone to eat something, just to give them the strength to face the day.<p>

"Where's Virgil?" she eventually asked.

"Still asleep, I guess," Gordon told her. "Do you want me to get him?"

"No," Grandma sighed, hoping her middle grandson had found some peace. She knew Scott's death would hit Virgil hardest of all. "Leave him be."

Gordon did as he was asked, but it didn't stop him overriding the code to Virgil's door half an hour later when he was feeling utterly miserable and needed someone to talk to. To his surprise the bed hadn't been slept in.

_Studio_, Gordon decided, and made his way over to the other side of the house. But Virgil's music studio was deserted. It didn't take Gordon long to work out that his brother must have taken refuge in the one place he always felt at peace – Thunderbird Two.

But the hangar was dark and deserted, as was Two herself. Gordon surmised that his brother must have taken himself off to some isolated part of the island to grieve in private. He made his way back up to the lounge intending to call his brother via his watch, but then a thought struck him and he changed direction.

Sure enough the bridge from the gantry into Thunderbird One was extended, the hatch wide open. Gordon was soon in the craft's cabin, unsurprised to find Virgil sitting in the pilot's seat.

"Have you been here all night?" Gordon asked.

"Most of it," Virgil said. "Couldn't sleep."

"I don't think anyone could. How are you feeling?"

"How do you think? You?"

"The same. Grandma wants you to come to breakfast."

Virgil visibly shuddered. "I couldn't face it."

Gordon moved to sit in the seat below the pilot's chair. "That won't stop her. She made the rest of us have something. It didn't help that she'd made all Scott's favourites..."

There was silence for a moment. Virgil reached out and rested his hands on One's controls for a moment before sitting back and running a hand over reddened eyes.

"I wish I'd kept my mouth shut," he said suddenly.

"What?" Gordon shifted so that he could look up at his brother.

"If I hadn't come up with this stupid idea..."

"Then someone else would have. It's not your fault, Virg."

"I know," Virgil said quietly. "But it doesn't stop me feeling like it is."

There was silence for a while before Virgil spoke again. "What do you think gave them away? Penny's accent, maybe?"

"Don't say that in front of Grandma," Gordon warned him. "She did the best she could to train Penny in the time they had. She's feeling guilty too. So am I for that matter. I should never have let them get Four."

Gordon sounded so miserable that Virgil managed to forget his own grief for a while as he tried to reassure his brother that no one - apart from Sir Reuben, Freddy and Sahara - was to blame for what had happened. That led onto more speculation as to what had taken place on the island.

"I don't suppose we'll ever know," Virgil said, finally getting out of Scott's chair.

"We will," Gordon insisted, joining his brother at the door to the cockpit as they looked sadly around, both silently promising their eldest brother that they'd take care of his 'bird. "The team from MI5 are heading out to visit Sir Reuben later today. John's going with them. He'll find something. You'll see, Virg, they won't get away with this. "

Virgil wished he could share his brother's optimism.


	25. Chapter 25

_Sorry this is so late - it's been a tricky chapter to write. Some characters are sulking and refusing to co-operate (no idea what I've done to upset them!) whilst others are doing things I didn't expect them to... _

Chapter Twenty-Five

_The events in this chapter take place at the same time as those in chapters 23 & 24_

Whilst Penny tended to Scott as he lay on the floor of the tiny room in which they were being held, an oblivious Brains was in his lab pretending to be studying another component from Thunderbird Four. He'd just decided he might as well start to write up his 'findings', when Thomas appeared to tell him he'd been once again summoned by his new employer. Feigning frustration at the interruption, he placed his data pad down on the workbench and followed the security guard to the office.

Sir Reuben was in his usual place behind his desk, Sahara in a chair to his left. The pair of them studied him as he took a seat in front of them, feeling suddenly uneasy. For a long time no one said anything, the atmosphere becoming uncomfortably tense. In the end Brains did something he rarely did and broke the silence himself.

"I-is something wr-wrong?"

"Why don't you tell us?" It was Sahara who answered, her voice unusually cold.

Brains blinked nervously back at her. "I-I don't understand."

"I think you do." Sahara stood up and came to sit on the desk in front of him. "We know. Everything."

"E-everything?" Brains' nervousness escalated into panic . _Everything_ suggested that they'd uncovered his link to International Rescue, but that couldn't be true... could it? "W-what d-do you m-mean?"

Sighing impatiently as Brains' stutter started to worsen, Sir Reuben got to his feet, manoeuvring his great bulk so that he was next to Sahara, the desk creaking slightly as he leaned against it. It was enough to make Sahara slide herself off it, just in case.

"You lied to us, Brains," Sahara told him. "All that rubbish about wanting to get away from Jeff Tracy and start over with Scott. We know now why you all came here. You and Scott… and_ Lady Penelope_."

Brains couldn't hide his shock. His head shot up and he stared wide-eyed at the pair of them as they exchanged satisfied glances. Frantic thoughts raced through his head. They knew about Scott and Penny – but how? And now that they knew, what had they actually done to his friends? He'd bet everything he had that they weren't safely in London as he'd believed them to be.

Then, of course, there were the consequences for IR and the Tracys. What would Sir Reuben do with his knowledge? Brains guessed he'd be unlikely to broadcast his discovery to the world, not when he risked arrest for his part in the theft of Thunderbird Four, but he'd use the information to his advantage somehow, selling the secret to the highest bidder, most likely. Whatever he did, it would mean the end of the secret organisation.

He did his best to cover himself, stuttering more than ever as he swore he knew nothing about any 'Lady Penelope', or any undercover mission to track down the murderer of the old MI5 chief. He was overwhelmingly relieved that their focus seemed to be on this rather than International Rescue, though it didn't tell him anything about how they'd discovered Penny's true identity in the first place. Then they stated to ask about Scott, and Brains' look of confusion was completely genuine as he denied all knowledge of his friend's links to the secret service - not that Sahara and Sir Reuben appeared to believe him.

Eventually, Sir Reuben – who had never had much patience with Brains' stutter anyway – nodded to Sahara. She moved back behind the desk, pressing a few buttons on a laptop and turning the screen round to face Brains.

Sir Reuben leaned forward. "I'm not wasting any more time with you. Have a look at this and then we'll talk."

For the next fifteen minutes an increasingly distraught Brains was forced to sit through the footage of Scott's interrogation. He'd closed his eyes before the first blow connected, but he couldn't do anything to block out the sickening sounds. It was all he could do not to break down and scream at Sahara to stop the playback, but he made himself sit through it, knowing that he needed to find out exactly what had gone on. When Scott finally 'confessed', Brains understood why he'd been asked all those questions earlier. Knowing that his friend had endured all this suffering just to keep International Rescue safe, Brains managed to pull himself together enough to confirm the story, explaining that Scott had come to him to ask for help in infiltrating RMC, having remembered the company's earlier attempts to recruit him. Brains had felt honour-bound to help out the friend who had given him so much support over the past year.

"I see," Sir Reuben said, once Brains had finished. "No links to MI5 or the American agencies for you then?"

"N-no," Brains told him. "I-I'm j-just an eng-engineer."

"You're rather more than that," Sir Reuben said slowly. "Which makes it more difficult to decide what to do with you. But I really don't think I have much choice." He was back behind his desk now and his hand moved to open a drawer. Brains had been too scared to ask what had happened to Scott and Penny, but when Sir Reuben drew out a gun and pointed it at him, he had a horrible feeling he'd just discovered their fate – and his own.

* * *

><p>An hour later, Sahara stood at the helipad waiting for Freddy to arrive. She knew the next few hours weren't going to be easy. Even though she'd persuaded Sir Reuben to keep her original betrayal of Freddy secret, there was no escaping the fact that she'd lied to him in order to get him to return. He was going to be devastated to learn that his uncle was fit and well - and then he'd have to actually face the man. Sir Reuben had torn into his nephew on numerous occasions, but there had never been a situation this serious before and his wrath was going to be terrifying. Sahara might have ordered Scott's beating - and watched via video-link as it took place - with barely a flicker of emotion, but one thing she couldn't face was watching Sir Reuben humiliate Freddy.<p>

Moments later Freddy came bounding out of the helicopter, picking Sahara up and swinging her round before kissing her long and hard.

"Is he dead yet?" he asked eagerly. "Was it slow and painful?" He swung her around again and laughed as she tried to disentangle herself. "What was it anyway? Heart?"

"Freddy, don't. No, stop it! Put me down. _Freddy! _He's alive."

He almost dropped her, so great was his shock, and she had to clutch at him to stop herself from falling. She couldn't help feeling guilty as he turned away from her, staring out across the ocean, and she placed a tentative hand on his shoulder. "I'm so sorry... But you need to listen. There's something-"

Freddy ignored her, unable to think about anything other than his uncle's apparent recovery. All the grand schemes he'd worked out on the way home would come to nothing now. He supposed he should have known - his uncle always managed to spoil his fun.

"What happened? Don't tell me one of our resident eggheads found a cure." He groaned. "They did, didn't they? I bet it was Hackenbacker. No one else here would come up with anything that might actually help someone."

"Freddy!" The urgency in Sahara's tone finally got through to him and he looked at her uncertainly.

"What is it? There's something else?"

"Come and sit down." Sahara led him down a path to the garden. Sitting next to him on a bench, she reached for his hand.

"You're going to hate me and I'm so sorry. But I lied to you. Sir Reuben was never in any danger."

"You lied to me?" Freddy looked utterly confused.

"I had to find a way to get you to come straight home. We found out something about Scott and Lola. They're agents, Freddy. They're investigating the murder of Randolph Pemberton."

Despite his misery Freddy couldn't help but laugh. "_Now_ you're lying, Sahara. Or joking - although I can't say I find it funny. Lola? An agent?"

"MI5. And she's not Lola Tracy, she's Lady Penelope Creighton-Ward."

"_Lady_ Penelope? This gets better and better. I suppose Brains is really James Bond. No, hang on, with all the gadgets he'd be-"

"Freddy, it's the truth! Your uncle found out why Scott and Lola were here - at least, why we_ thought_ they were here. He wanted to send them away so that he could get his hands on Brains. He had the contract he signed and he planned to force him to work for RMC - that's why he sent you to London in the first place, so you couldn't interfere. But then Eric arrived and recognised Lola. Seems we've got the British _and_ the Americans after us - they've linked us to those terrorist attacks last year."

He whistled as he tried to take this in. "Scott tricked us." He emphasised the _us. _"My uncle blames me, doesn't he?"

Sahara nodded, putting a comforting arm around his shoulders.

Freddy looked back to where the helicopter was just visible through the trees.

"Let's go."

"What?"

"I'll fly us away from here. You've got contacts. Let's start again with new identities. As clever as my uncle is, there's no guarantee he'll survive this. What do you say? You and me? I'll marry you if that's what you want."

_And how long would that last_? Sahara thought. _I can still smell the perfume on you from whatever girl you picked up last night. _

Her silence was enough for Freddy and he pulled away from her.

"Why did you make me come back? You know what he'll do to me."

"I didn't want to. He forced me to. He's got too much of a hold over me, Freddy. I couldn't go against him, not after I helped Eric kill Randolph. One word from him and I'd be finished."

"You could have warned me."

"I couldn't. He was listening in. I had to do what he said."

Freddy wasn't buying it. He knew full well how ruthless Sahara could be. "You think my uncle will look after you, don't you? Well, good luck with that, Sahara. You'll see. He only looks after himself."

The sound of the helicopter's engine starting up startled them both. Neither of them said anything as the machine took off. Only when it had completely disappeared from view did Freddy speak again.

"Well, it looks like I'm stuck here. Time to face the music with Uncle Reuben, I suppose. "

"_Freddy!"_

He was already on his way back down the path but he paused long enough to look back at her. She'd never seen such a bitter look on his usually cheerful face and she wondered if she'd ever be able to get him back on her side.

* * *

><p>Sir Reuben had been expecting Freddy's knock at the door ever since he'd heard the helicopter land. He was looking forward to working off some of the anger and frustration he was currently feeling.<p>

"Come in," he called out. Freddy opened the door and stood there, clearly steeling himself to step over the threshold.

"Nervous?" his uncle asked with a smile. "Yes, you probably should be..."

Twenty minutes later, Freddy sat red-faced and silently fuming. It had been even worse than he'd expected, which was saying something. He hated his uncle more than ever, not that he could really blame him for being so angry. Having heard the whole story, he couldn't believe he'd been taken in so easily. He'd trusted Scott - but then they all had. Sahara had checked Lola out and cleared her, but she didn't appear to be taking any of the blame. It wasn't fair that he should be held solely responsible. But arguing would get him nowhere - he'd learnt that years ago

"Haven't you got anything to say for yourself?" Sir Reuben asked, silently wishing his nephew would show some backbone for once and fight back. But, just as he had done since he was a boy, he just sat there and took it, as Sir Reuben had known he would.

"It's lucky for you we found out about this before any real damage was done. Our friends have been dealt with and we know they can't have found any hard evidence otherwise we'd have been raided by now. If we keep our nerve we can survive the investigation. As for you-"

The door opened and Sahara came in. She smiled sympathetically at Freddy but he stubbornly refused to meet her eye. "The news is out: Scott Tracy and his wife have been tragically killed in a helicopter crash along with Tracy Industries' top engineer. No mention of Lady Penelope, but that's to be expected. We should probably put out a statement, insist the helicopter was properly maintained, express our shock; you know the kind of thing."

"You can handle that," Sir Reuben told her. "I want to call my contact at MI5. I'm hoping he'll have some idea of when they're going to visit us. Is everything ready for lockdown?"

"All set."

"Good. Freddy, I want you down on the lower levels when we have visitors. The last thing we need is for you to say something stupid and give us all away."

"Shall I go there now?" Freddy asked, desperate to get away. He needed to think things through. He wasn't quite the fool his uncle took him for - he'd already worked out that if the investigation into Pemberton's death got too close to the truth, he'd be the perfect scapegoat. Most likely his dead body would be found along with some 'evidence' implicating him in the murder. His uncle would get away with it, just like he always did. But Freddy wasn't going to give him the chance. He made a silent promise to himself that one way or another he was going to get away - and then he was going to destroy his uncle.

"You stay here," Sir Reuben told him. He turned to Sahara. "Get me Jeff Tracy's private number."

"Why?" Sahara couldn't help being surprised.

"I want to offer my condolences. It's what an innocent man would do, isn't it?"

Freddy moved to stand at his uncle's side during the conversation. One of the many things the man had berated him for was his willingness to believe that the reclusive Jeff Tracy would really have a public slanging match with his son. Another example of Freddy's gullibility, Sir Reuben had declared scornfully, but Freddy wasn't so sure. There had been real emotion between the men he'd watched in the Vegas chapel, and, whilst he didn't doubt Scott could play a part, he wasn't convinced he was _that _good an actor. He stared hard at Jeff Tracy. There was no mistaking the fact that this was the same man he'd seen arguing with Scott at his wedding to Lola. He couldn't help wondering why Tracy should have got involved. He was an Air Force man so he'd want to support an investigation into RMC's illegal arms deal, plus Scott was his son so he'd want to help him out if he could, but even so... And why risk losing his company's best designer? Freddy couldn't shake the feeling that they were all missing something. He wasn't going to say anything though, not when it would only give his uncle another chance to criticise his judgement.

"Well?" Sir Reuben asked, and Freddy realised he'd ended the call. "Have you seen that man before?"

Freddy sighed and dropped his head, looking utterly defeated at yet another apparent failure on his part. "No. It must have been an actor, like Scott said."

Sir Reuben rolled his eyes and laughed. "Told you. You're too easy to fool, boy." He dismissed Freddy with a wave of his hand, turning to Sahara as he began to outline his plans to deceive the investigators.

Freddy let the door shut behind him then leaned back against the wall before sliding down to sit on the floor, burying his head in his hands for a moment. He'd never hated his uncle as much as he did at that moment. He thought of Jeff Tracy, grieving for the son he'd lost, and found himself thinking of his own father who'd died when he was just a boy. Tracy would give anything to find out what had really happened to Scott, he thought. Money, protection... all the things Freddy needed right now. If he could make a deal with Tracy he'd be able to bring down his uncle without talking to the authorities himself. He wasn't entirely certain he'd be allowed to go free, not after all the things he'd done over the years. But he'd had nothing to do with what had happened to Scott or Lola - _Lady Penelope_, he reminded himself - or Brains.

It was certainly something to think about...


	26. Chapter 26

_An early update this time. _As always, a massive thank you for the reviews and alerts, I really do appreciate them.__

_It's an interesting experience, writing as you go along. I did it with 'Perfect Cousin' but I'd already written certain scenes so just had to link them up. With this one, all the scenes I had in mind have ended up having to be scrapped because they just didn't fit. I wasn't expecting this chapter to end the way it did but Penny has completely taken over this story! Not too long till the end now - though whether it ends the way I think it will is anybody's guess..._

Chapter Twenty-Six

Brains had already gathered from Freddy that Sir Reuben had a sick sense of humour. Even so, he'd failed to find anything amusing in the sight of a gun being aimed at him. Sahara hadn't helped by edging away from him, presumably in order to give her boss a better shot. To his eternal shame he'd closed his eyes, gripping the arms of his chair to try to quell the tremors which had overtaken him. He'd heard the click as Sir Reuben pulled the trigger and tensed even more, waiting for the bullet to strike.

But there was nothing. Instead, from behind him he heard a soft swishing sound, then Sir Reuben began to laugh. Breathing heavily and still clutching tightly at the chair, Brains allowed himself to open one eye, only to see Sir Reuben smiling broadly at him, looking decidedly pleased with himself.

"Got you!" He winked as he waved the gun at Brains. "This is just a replica of my old service weapon. A remote control. Like you I'm a gadget man. Look behind you."

Brains opened his other eye and turned his head to see that part of the wall had slid aside, revealing what appeared to be an elevator.

"Shall we?" Sir Reuben asked, hauling himself to his feet.

It wasn't as if Brains had much choice. He allowed himself to be escorted into the elevator. Once Sahara and Sir Reuben had got in as well there wasn't a lot of room, but the journey down to the hitherto hidden levels of the complex was short and seconds later the door slid open. A man in a lab coat was waiting for them, a man Brains recognised straight away. The glasses had been replaced by contacts and the haircut was now almost fashionable, but the spiteful curl of the lips hadn't changed in fifteen years.

"Hello, Motormouth."

Marcus Ivins... Brains had almost forgotten about him in all the drama of the past day or so, but now he remembered how much he'd been dreading his reunion with the man who'd caused him so much torment at Cambridge. From the depressingly familiar greeting it appeared he hadn't changed much in the intervening years, but right now Brains had other things on his mind - like his impending death. He fully believed he'd only been transferred to the lower levels in order to make it easier for his captors to murder him and dispose of the body, but as Marcus grinned and expressed his delight at getting the chance to work with 'the great Hiram Hackenbacker' whom he'd read all about in the news a few months ago, he wondered if they intended to keep him alive after all. Not that he'd do anything to help Sir Reuben, not after everything he'd done to Scott.

"Here's the deal," Sir Reuben said. "You're going to stay here for a while. Those components you've been looking at, the ones _you've_ done such a sterling job of analysing for me-" There was a coolly dissatisfied glance across at Marcus as he said this and under normal circumstances Brains' heart would have sunk at the vindictive look he himself received in response, but frankly, he no longer cared.

Sir Reuben continued, "It's time you had a go at something a little more complex. I expect you've been wondering where those parts came from?"

Brains nodded, wondering what the man would say if he told him he already knew.

"I'll show you. Come on, Ivins, lead the way."

Brains soon realised that the lower level was a completely self-contained unit in itself, albeit a lot smaller than the one he'd worked in originally. Sahara informed him that he'd be living down here from now on - along with the inevitable security guards, just in case he got any ideas about trying to make an escape. Brains wasn't surprised when they turned a corner and he saw Thomas standing rigidly to attention beside a door.

"Ready for this?" Marcus asked, unable to keep the smile off his face.

Brains knew exactly what he was about to see and he steeled himself to show no reaction. Quite apart from the fact that he needed to keep his connection to International Rescue secret, he didn't want to give Marcus the satisfaction of any kind of response. Sure enough as the door slid open - Marcus had placed his palm onto a panel beside the door then entered a code into a keypad, careful to shield his hand from Brains' view as he did so - he was confronted with the sight of Thunderbird Four.

It would have broken Gordon's heart, Brains decided. He couldn't help but feel a lump in his own throat at the sight of the formerly magnificent craft which had systematically been torn to pieces over the past couple of weeks. She was just a shell of herself, her hull ripped apart to allow access to the cabin and the engines, several pieces of machinery sitting in pieces on work benches. Gordon's spare diving equipment, along with various other odds and ends, was slung in a heap in a corner.

"Well?" Sir Reuben said after a moment, "Aren't you impressed?"

"Sh-should I b-be?" Brains asked. "Y-you've stolen a Th-Thunderbird."

"One thing my nephew did manage to do right - though I credit Sahara here with the finer details." He smiled across at the girl. "We're on a deadline here, Hackenbacker. Professor Franklin there -" He indicated an elderly man who could be seen sitting in Gordon's pilot seat pulling a handful of wires out of the control panel. "- needs some help recreating this fine machine. I don't think there's anyone better qualified for the job, do you?"

"R-recreating? This i-is a r-rescue vehicle. Y-you're g-going to t-turn it into a w-weapon."

"Well, obviously," Marcus said. "But I thought you liked a challenge."

"I-I'm not h-helping you." Brains didn't care what they did to him.

"I think you will," Sir Reuben told him, nodding at Thomas. The guard took out a gun which Brains knew definitely wasn't a replica.

"Y-you're going to k-kill me whatever I d-do," Brains said, managing to look Sir Reuben in the eye this time.

"Maybe, maybe not." Sir Reuben didn't sound like he cared either way. "But whilst you're at liberty to decide what to do with your own life, do you really want to be responsible for the deaths of others?"

"W-what do you m-mean?"

"Look over there. What happens next is up to you." Sahara pointed across to a workbench where a laptop was sitting, the screen showing a still image from the end of the interrogation he'd just been forced to watch.

"S-Scott..." Brains took a hesitant step towards the laptop and stared at the image. Scott lay on the floor, bleeding and broken. Penny was on her knees beside him. "They're still a-alive?"

"For now. It's very simple, Brains. Do as we ask and you and your friends live. Refuse and you all die."

"Y-you'll kill us eventually," Brains pointed out as he wondered how long it would take the Tracys to realise something was wrong and mount a rescue. Having no idea that his death as well as that of his friends was currently headline news around the world, he found himself fearful that several days could pass before anyone decided it was time to investigate.

"Eventually," Sir Reuben agreed. "But you're an intelligent man, Hiram. You're not going to throw your life away while there's still a chance you and your friends will get through this. While there's life there's hope and all that. You know the odds are against you, but you're still going to be looking for a way out. You won't just give in. And that's why you'll co-operate."

Brains said nothing. He and Sir Reuben both knew that he didn't have a choice, not when Scott and Penny's lives depended on it, but he was wondering how to play this. Should he attempt to sabotage the efforts to build a new Four, or should he do his best work, pretending to be broken and harmless in the hope they'd relax their guard and so allow him to find some means of contacting the Tracys?

"Hurry up, Brains," Sahara said. "Every minute you waste means more suffering for poor Scott. You've got a medical degree, haven't you? Agree to co-operate and we'll fly him and Penny back here and you can take care of him. Your choice."

Brains looked at the screen again. "A-alright. Y-you win."

Sir Reuben smiled. "Good. Thomas will guard you while you're working, the rest of the time you'll be shut up in your quarters."

He turned to leave. "Oh, Marcus?"

"Yes, Sir Reuben?"

"Behave yourself. Hiram needs to concentrate on his work."

"Of course, Sir Reuben." Marcus's tone suggested that the thought of picking up where he'd left off all those years ago hadn't even crossed his mind. But no one was fooled, least of all Brains. Sir Reuben chuckled as he made his way back towards the elevator that would return him to his office, Sahara following behind him.

* * *

><p>Barely two hours later, Marcus was finding it hard to hide his frustration. It had killed him, knowing his old rival was on the island, presumably unaware of his presence. At least he'd finally be able to leave the lower levels where he'd been confined for the past week - another thing to resent his rival for; he'd missed his comfortable quarters.<p>

He'd been ordered by Sahara to stay away from Hackenbacker in case his presence scared the man off. He knew now she'd been working with Freddy at the time, keeping her options open in case the new business took off. Now that all this had happened she'd changed her allegience back to Sir Reuben and Marcus was with her all the way. He'd known Sir Reuben long enough to understand that no one beat the man, ever.

He looked across at his rival, who was busily dismantling some part of Thunderbird Four's engine. The man had been hesitant at first when Marcus had given him his orders, but then his natural love of all things technical had clearly got the better of him and now he was engrossed in his task, oblivious to everything around him.

Marcus knew he'd switched off. Heaven knew he'd tried to goad him, referring to him by the nickname that had had him flushing with embarrassment every time Marcus had used it at Cambridge, but to Marcus's annoyance it didn't seem to affect him anymore. In fact, nothing Marcus could say or do got a reaction. Clearly the intervening years had done something to improve his confidence. Working with Tracy on his private island must have helped. That was something else to be bitter about. Marcus had once applied for a job with Tracy Industries, having got down to the final three before falling apart at the interview and failing to impress Jeff Tracy. The knowledge that the inarticulate Hiram Hackenbacker had clearly had no such problem was galling. Still, working for RMC had been lucrative, even if most of his designs didn't gain him any glory amongst his contemporaries. Not like Hackenbacker. Time after time he'd come across his name in engineering magazines and science journals, whether in a glowing review of one of Tracy Industries' latest developments, or at the top of an article the man himself had written. It hadn't made Marcus feel any more kindly towards him.

The notoriety Hackenbacker had gained recently had surprised him. Marcus couldn't imagine anyone less likely to get involved in anything illegal. The thought made him smile as he looked across at the man once again. Clearly there were some things that could persuade him: a pretty girl, the prospect of saving his friends' lives... Marcus wondered whether he really thought he could survive this. Once the new sub had been constructed and tested, Hackenbacker would have served his purpose. His friends too. Marcus found himself wondering if Sir Reuben would allow him to use them to test out his latest nerve gas. He couldn't help voicing his idea to Hackenbacker, disappointed when even that failed to get a reaction.

Brains was finding it easy to ignore Marcus. He always got engrossed in his work and even though the task he'd been given wasn't the challenge Marcus had expected it to be, he still didn't register his old classmate's constant stream of abuse as more than an irritating background noise. Instead he focused his attention on his situation, considering various plans for escape or for contacting his friends. The last few years with the Tracy brothers and International Rescue had taught him that a man could find a way out of the most hopeless of situations. At least he'd soon be reunited with Scott and Penny. Between the three of them they'd surely come up with something. Plus he had Thunderbird Four, full of useful equipment - if he could only get his hands on it. The communications system sat on a workbench at the far side of the lab just begging him to come and get it working. If Thomas hadn't been watching him so closely he'd have made his move, but right now it was hopeless. Even if he managed to get the unit up and running there was still the problem of the jammers which were keeping Four's homing signal from being picked up. There could be no communication with the outside world while they were in operation. He'd have to bide his time. But there would be a way out. There had to be.

"Good work."

It was such a surprise to hear a positive comment after all the negativity which had streamed out of Marcus that Brains could do nothing more than stare at the old man who appeared to be in charge of the project.

"Professor Franklin," the man said, holding out a hand which, after a moment's hesitation in which he wondered if the Professor knew he was actually a prisoner, Brains took and shook.

"H-Hiram H-Hackenbacker."

"So, Hiram, what have you come up with?"

For the next ten minutes Brains explained the workings of the engine part, unable to help the feeling of satisfaction he felt when the Professor praised his work, commenting that Marcus had spent a day on the machinery with no success. Brains wasn't surprised. Unless you knew there was a particular way of detaching the components, you'd never be able to take the thing apart. He couldn't help but feel he'd need to be careful. Do enough to seem to be co-operating, to keep himself and the others alive, but not so much as to give anyone any suspicion that he was more familiar with the machinery than he should be. As if he didn't have enough to worry about...

It was several hours later when the elevator descended. Brains looked up hopefully as footsteps could be heard coming down the corridor, one set clearly a woman's if the tapping heels were anything to go by. Sure enough when the door slid open, Scott and Penny were escorted in. Scott was clearly making an effort to stay on his own two feet, leaning against Penny and breathing heavily. Both stared at Thunderbird Four for a long moment before they registered Brains' presence. Penny managed a small smile whilst Scott just nodded, the movement barely perceptible but clearly painful.

Brains hurried over, going round to Scott's other side, helping Penny to support him. There was a lot he wanted to say but he didn't dare speak. Penny murmured, "I'm so sorry, Brains", but before he could reply Sahara ordered them to get moving.

The three of them were escorted to the living quarters. Unlike the main complex, the rooms down here were small, furnished only with the basics. They were rarely used; the few people who worked down here, those whose jobs were too secret or controversial to be carried out in the public area, generally preferred to spend their free time upstairs. Brains could understand why Marcus hadn't enjoyed his enforced stay down here.

Since there were only two rooms, Scott and Brains were put in together. Penny was clearly unhappy about being separated from Scott, but Sahara ignored her protests that he needed constant care which Brains couldn't provide if he was working, announcing that she'd check in on him herself from time to time.

Scott raised his head at this. With Brains' help he'd made his way over to one of the cots and was clearly fit for nothing more than to collapse onto it and sleep. But he stayed upright, even though he swayed slightly, staring coldly at Sahara as well as he could out of his black and swollen eyes. She just smiled, informing Brains that someone would bring a medical kit shortly and that he had half an hour before he'd be escorted back to Thunderbird Four.

Then it was just Penny and Sahara. The agent had been hoping for a chance to make an escape, but with Thomas at one end of the corridor and a dead end the other way, she could see no alternative other than to allow Sahara to push her into her new quarters.

"Not what you're used to, I imagine, Penny," Sahara commented.

"One learns to make the best of things, _Sarah_," was Penny's reply as she sat herself down on the bed.

Sahara didn't like the use of her real name but she just laughed. "Oh come on Penny, don't sulk just because I didn't put you in with Scott."

She turned to leave, but suddenly pushed the door shut and came to stand in front of Penny again.

"You're in love with him, aren't you?"

Penny denied it, of course, forcing herself to meet Sahara's gaze. It was nothing more than a captor's attempt to intimidate their prisoner, she told herself. Just jealousy on the part of a woman who was clearly attracted to Scott. She wouldn't give Sahara the satisfaction of a response. But for once her iron self-control let her down and she found herself blushing.

"I thought so," Sahara said triumphantly. "I could see it all along. It puzzled me, you know. I could see how Lola would be attracted to Scott - that face, that_ body_... all the money - but every now and again you'd look at him and it would be so much more than that. That's why you broke so easily in the interrogation, wasn't it?"

"We've worked together for a long time," Penny told her. "We're good friends, nothing more."

"On Scott's side, maybe," Sahara said slowly. "He cares about you, that's easy to see, but he's not in love with you. Poor Penny. Does he know how you feel? I could tell him if you like. Give him something to think about, something to take his mind off how much he's hurting."

Penny said nothing. All this time trying to deny her feelings and she'd managed to give herself away without even realising it. Whether Sahara was right about Scott or not Penny didn't know - didn't _want _to know. It was enough that she was right about her. It was her own fault, she thought. She'd had her chance. That night at Bailey's... Scott had been more than willing but she'd somehow found the strength to tell him to stop, unsure of her own feelings, let alone his and not wanting to be just another one of his conquests. She'd regretted it ever since.

She found herself hating the other girl and she knew from the way Sahara laughed as she left the room that she knew how Penny felt. It was an unusual and unexpected feeling. Not just because she'd been brought up to be terribly British about showing her feelings, but because it was downright unprofessional. Espionage was rarely personal. Even when you were facing certain death at the hands of an enemy, there was an understanding that it was really a matter of business, of practicalities. But this time she really did want to hurt the woman. Even as Sahara mocked her, promising her one last reunion with Scott before her death, she made a silent vow that she'd find a way to save the pair of them - Brains too - and make Sahara sorry for everything she'd done.


	27. Chapter 27

_Early update! Thank you to everyone who reviewed the last chapter, especially those I couldn't reply to. _

Chapter Twenty-Seven

There had been little Brains could do for Scott beyond dosing him up with painkillers and cleaning him up a bit. As extensive as the cuts and bruises were, he didn't think there were any serious injuries and although he'd have liked to have had access to an x-ray machine in order to confirm his suspicion that his friend had several fractured ribs, there wasn't a lot he could do about that anyway. Much of the damage was cosmetic - Scott wouldn't win any beauty contests right now. But he'd heal - if he got the chance.

"You'll be fine," he assured Scott, settling him onto the cot. Scott grumbled something about being fine now and wanting to get out of there, but Brains, with the ease that came from years of dealing with stubborn Tracys, ignored his protests and pushed him back down. Scott didn't put up too much of a fight, accepting that there wasn't much he could actually do right now beyond try to recover a little in order to be ready to move if there should be some chance of escape.

When Brains had replaced everything in the medical kit he turned on his data pad and slowly turned in a circle, holding it out in front of him. Scott, watching through half-closed eyes, realised he was checking for listening devices.

"N-nothing," Brains smiled, putting the pad back in his pocket and patting it in satisfaction. Marcus had taken it from him on his arrival and made a big show of checking through it for anything out of the ordinary. He'd found nothing of course. Brains had modified the device to include various useful bits of kit, but none of them would be easily discoverable by anyone who didn't know exactly what they were looking for. He couldn't help feeling rather pleased that he could still outdo his rival.

He was even more pleased that, as he'd suspected, the room they were in had no bugs. This was a bedroom, not a cell, and anyone who'd used the room in the past would have already passed numerous security checks in order to be able to access the secret labs. Wiith Thomas guarding the corridor, their captors had clearly felt they had no need to take any further precautions.

"W-we can t-talk freely," he said, coming to sit beside Scott. "I-I saw what h-happened to you." He explained what had taken place in Sir Reuben's office.

"So they bought my story?" Scott asked. "Guess Johnny came through for me."

"L-let's hope h-he can again," Brains said. "If e-everyone thinks w-we're d-dead..."

"They won't believe it," Scott assured him, starting to sit up then thinking better of it. "They'll be working on a way to get us out of here right now. But we can't just sit back and wait for them to rescue us. We might not have much time. How long do you think they're going to want you to work on Four?"

" I-I don't know," Brains said. "I-it depends if th-they keep me around f-for the construction of the n-new sub."

"Better make yourself indispensible," Scott said. "Penny and I will be okay as long as they still need you."

The door opened and Thomas came in. "Time to get back to work," he said as he held the door open for Brains.

"Wh-when are you b-bringing my th-things down?" Brains asked as he got up after a final check on Scott and a forceful instruction to stay put.

"Sorry," Thomas said. "Your old room stays as it is. You were supposed to be coming back."

"What do you mean?" Scott asked.

Thomas told them all about the helicopter crash. Sir Reuben had finalised his story: Scott and Lola had left the island for a short break in London, hence their luggage being on board the stricken helicopter. Brains, however, had merely been visiting for the day, meeting Freddy in order to discuss the requirements of the new business.

Brains couldn't help thinking that the 'accident' seemed pretty convincing, but that wasn't his most pressing concern right now. "I-I need m-my things," he insisted.

"We'll find you a razor and a toothbrush," Thomas promised. "I'll bring you a change of clothes too. But Sir Reuben insists that all your stuff stays where you left it. Makes it look more like a tragic accident - and like he's got nothing to hide."

"But I-I need m-my eye drops," Brains protested, much to Scott's surprise. He'd never known Brains have any problems with his eyes - beyond his chronic myopia of course.

Thomas frowned.

"M-my eyes g-get tired when I-I work," Brains told him. "I-I can't work if I-I can't see."

Thomas pondered this for a moment. "I suppose you could have taken them to London with you," he agreed finally. "I'll get them for you."

Brains told him where to find them, then, with a final smile at a bewildered Scott, left the room.

* * *

><p>Scott didn't know how long he'd been asleep - the painkillers and the joy of finally being able to lie down on a bed, even if it wasn't a particularly comfortable one - having overcome his efforts to think the situation through clearly. He gradually became aware of a cool, soft hand stroking the hair away from his face.<p>

"Penny?" he whispered, wondering how she'd managed to get herself out of her own room and into his. He should have known she'd find a way.

The hand froze for a moment before being removed completely. Scott blinked his eyelids open as far as they would go, pleased that he could move them a little more than before. He wasn't so pleased when his blurry vision settled and he realised that the woman beside him was Sahara.

She was clearly trying to hide the fact that she was annoyed about something as she asked how he was feeling. Scott ignored the pain to push himself up onto his elbows as he looked at her somewhat incredulously.

"How do you think I feel? Your guys did a good job. You should be proud of them."

"Don't be like that, Scott," Sahara said, pushing him back down. He tried to resist, but he just didn't have the strength and he was forced to lie back whilst her hand returned to its earlier motion. Shaking his head to get her off him just made it hurt more so he forced himself to lie there and put up with it.

"You know I had no choice," she went on. "If I hadn't done what he said, Sir Reuben would have-"

"Don't give me that!" Scott wondered if Sahara might not be his greatest threat. He managed a fierce glare, not that it deterred the woman in the slightest. "You do what you want. You could stand up to him if you wanted to."

"You think so? He'd give me up for Randolph Pemberton's murder in a heartbeat. I think he'd miss me, but he wouldn't save me if it benefitted him. I need to stay on his side."

"What about Freddy?" Scott asked. "Are you on his side too?"

Sahara paused for a moment then ignored the question. "I'm just sorry that you had to go through all this. Can I get you anything?"

"You could bring Penny in here for a bit."

"I don't think so. Your accident is all over the news, you know. Share prices in Tracy Industries have plummeted since news of Brains' death broke. Your father put out the most touching statement. Poor man - he looked so distraught when I saw him earlier. He really believes you're dead, you know. If you're expecting some kind of rescue attempt you can forget it. No one knows you're here and even if they search the complex they'll never discover the entrances to this part. You should start being nice to me - right now I'm the only hope you've got."

Scott managed a laugh. "You're kidding, right? What exactly do you want from me?"

The hand was back in his hair again. "We can talk about that later. Now then, are you sure you don't want anything?"

"Not from you."

"Fine. Still, you never know, you might change your mind. I'll come and see you later."

"Don't bother."

Sahara leaned close to him. "Be careful, Scott. You wouldn't want anything to happen to Penny, would you? Because it so easily could, you know. Marcus is always looking for someone to test his chemicals on and the results are never pretty. Brains will be just as easy to control with one hostage as security. In fact it might concentrate his efforts, knowing what might happen to you if he doesn't cooperate. "

She laughed as Scott poured all his feelings into one look. "Get some rest, you're going to need it." She patted him on the shoulder and left the room, leaving Scott wide awake and wondering just how long it was going to take for help to arrive. He didn't believe for a moment that his family would accept he was dead. No, they'd surely be planning something. He just hoped it wouldn't take too long. Right now he was in no condition to do much, but he couldn't help wondering what Sahara would demand in return for Penny's life once he started to heal. He didn't like the idea one little bit.

* * *

><p>Sahara laughed as the door closed behind her. She'd known exactly how Scott would react and it had amused her to push his buttons like that. A pity - she'd have been quite happy for him to agree to her suggestion. But there was still time.<p>

She made her way down to the lab where Brains sat staring at a computer screen. Coming to stand beside him she could see the plans for some piece of machinery. It meant nothing to her but it looked impressive and, more to annoy Marcus who was working at the next bench, than anything else, she murmured her approval before handing Brains a small bottle.

"You wanted this?"

"Th-thank you." Brains held out his hand.

Sahara held the bottle just out of reach and looked at him suspiciously. "You know, I'm not sure I trust you."

Brains blinked innocently at her. "They're j-just eye drops."

"I can test them out for you if you like," Marcus said, coming over to them. "I don't trust him either, Sahara. He was so innocent when I knew him, but when you look at everything he's done lately..."

Sahara considered for a moment then handed the drops to Marcus. "Okay. Just to be sure."

"I'll get right onto it."

Marcus waited until she'd gone then tossed the bottle back to Brains. He'd never been renowned for his dexterity but he managed a clumsy two-handed catch.

"Wh-what...?"

"It's my test. Put them in your eyes."

"I-I don't n-need them right n-now." Brains went to put the bottle in his pocket, only for Marcus to dig his fingers sharply into his shoulder - he clearly hadn't forgotten how to hit just the right spot to cause pain, a favourite trick of his all those years ago.

"I said do it now."

"O-okay..."

Marcus watched hopefully as Brains set his glasses down on the workbench and opened the bottle. He allowed a couple of drops of the clear liquid to slide into each eye before blinking and wiping away the overspill with the edge of his lab coat.

He put his glasses back on and smiled at Marcus. "A-all done."

Marcus's face fell. He'd clearly been expecting the bottle to contain something other than simple eye drops. Looking carefully at Brains' eyes he couldn't even see the slightest hint of redness, much to his disappointment.

"What are you waiting for, then?" he asked as he turned back to his bench. "Get back to work."

Brains did so, slipping the bottle back into his pocket and hiding a smile. The first tiny part of his plan to get them all out of here had just fallen into place.

* * *

><p>It was a surprisingly cheerful Brains who was escorted back to the room he shared with Scott later that night. He'd hoped for a word with Penny, but apart from a quick peek through the window of her room, catching her eye and smiling for a moment, trying to convey the news that Scott was alright - he wasn't sure he'd managed it but she'd seemed to brighten up just for a second - he wasn't allowed any contact. He knew that if space hadn't been at a premium he'd have been separated from Scott, too.<p>

The eldest Tracy was looking a little better and, after another round of painkillers, was able to eat a little of the meal that was brought to them a while later. Brains was able to reassure him that Penny was still alive and well, though he stubbornly refused to answer his friend's questions about the mysterious eye drops, simply stating that all would become clear eventually.

"You've got a plan?"

"I-I think so. At l-least, I-I hope so."

Brains refused to be drawn on it and eventually Scott gave in to the tiredness which was overwhelming him and fell asleep.

Brains stayed awake for quite some time, running various scenarios through his head. The outcomes weren't particularly positive in most of them, but what choice did he have? Scott and Penny were under lock and key and he was the only person who had any hope of saving them.

* * *

><p>The next morning Sahara herself brought them breakfast - along with newspapers.<p>

"You could be in a hotel," she smiled. "We had these flown in specially. I thought you'd like to see what's being said about you."

Scott managed to read a couple of paragraphs before slinging the paper to the floor in disgust. Brains forced himself to wade through the whole story.

"W-well at l-least they don't know the t-truth," he said.

Scott managed a smile. The one thing keeping him sane in all of this was the belief that International Rescue was safe. "It looks pretty convincing though, don't you think," he said slowly. For the first time he couldn't help wondering if his family might really believe he was dead - and what they'd be going through if they did.

"S-Sir Reuben d-doesn't do things b-by halves," Brains agreed. "B-but w-we're not d-dead, Scott. W-we'll get out of here."

"How?" he asked. "Tell me, Brains, please. Give me a hint? At least it would give me something to think about. I'm bored out of my mind, lying here."

"Y-you can't move around y-yet," Brains warned. "You n-need to save y-your strength, Scott."

"Why? To fight off Sahara?" For a moment there was a mischievous spark in Scott's eye, but it soon faded. "I wish you'd tell me what you have in mind, Brains."

"T-to be honest S-Scott, I'm not entirely s-sure myself," Brains admitted. He really wasn't. He was going to have to play this by ear, not an easy thing for a man who liked to plan for every eventuality.

He looked up as the door opened, to see Thomas arriving to escort him to work.

"See you later," Scott said. He lay back wondering how Penny was doing.

* * *

><p>Brains' chance came later that day. The first sign that something was going on was when Freddy appeared, accompanied by a man he introduced as Eric Younger - 'the man who helped Sahara kill the old head of MI5'.<p>

Surprised as much by the bitterness exhibited by the usually easy-going Freddy as by the starkness of the announcement, Brains wasn't quite sure what to say. Younger apparently didn't expect any reply, simply pushing Freddy along to the small kitchen where he busied himself making a fresh pot of coffee.

"We're going into lockdown," Marcus told Brains. "Sir Reuben's contact in MI5 has told him there's an investigative team on the way. No one will find us here, of course, so our work carries on as normal. Oh, apart from the fact that Thomas will be escorting the visitors. So you get me to look after you. Aren't you the lucky one?"

Brains ignored him. He was too busy trying to work out if he stood any chance of breaking out and contacting the visitors. He didn't think he did - not straight away anyhow. But with no Thomas around he thought this might be his best chance to do something to help himself and the others. If he could give Marcus the slip, of course. But he was fairly confident he could do that.

Professor Franklin was hard at work in the cockpit of Thunderbird Four. Brains still hadn't been given access to the craft and he knew that with the engines in pieces in the lab, along with the comm unit, there was no point in making a run for the sub, even though he was sure that even someone as hopeless at fighting as himself could overpower the old man. No, his chances had to lie in the lab and the surrounding rooms.

Sure enough, Marcus made the most of his time in power. Brains had no chance of concentrating on his own work, not when he was given so many other jobs to do. He did them without argument, knowing that his only hope was to appear compliant and lull Marcus into a false sense of security. Even so, it was torture, knowing that salvation was just a few metres above his head but that he had no chance of reaching it. How long would the investigation take, anyway? An hour? Two? Marcus had said something about Thomas giving them a tour of the complex 'to show we've got nothing to hide'. That might take a while. He wondered what they'd do when they came to his old room. Would they pack up his things and return them to Jeff Tracy? Or would they leave them alone, in which case Thomas could bring them downstairs later? That would definitely be an advantage if he couldn't do something to help himself this time.

But what? In the end it was Marcus himself who gave him the answer, ordering him to tidy up the lab and take some old components over to the large metal container where all the other things they no longer had any use for were kept. He laughed at Brains as he did so, obviously enjoying the fact that one of the world's greatest minds was reduced to cleaning up after him. Opening the lid, Brains was about to tip the junk inside when he spotted something small and silver, half hidden beneath a jumble of old wiring. He knew straight away what it was and, remembering Gordon's account of his journey down to the research station, guessed that Marcus and the Professor had clearly believed it to be damaged beyond repair. Whether or not it was didn't matter, it had just given him the break he needed. With a silent _thank you _to Marcus, Brains sneaked out a hand and grabbed it, quickly hiding it in his pocket.

"Get me a coffee," Marcus said suddenly. He was loving this. Thomas's presence had stopped him being too vindictive towards Brains, just in case it got reported back to Sir Reuben. Now, with no one to stop him and with his old rival so keen not to rock the boat and risk harm coming to his friends, he was reliving some of the fun of his student days.

Without a word, Brains went into the kitchen. Freddy and Eric Younger were still there, the former sitting with his feet up on the table, trying to look nonchalant but failing to hide the fact that he was very, very nervous. Brains didn't blame him. He too had guessed that Freddy's days were numbered. He wouldn't have been surprised if the man had been handed over to the team from MI5 on the spot, just to get Sir Reuben out of trouble.

Younger ignored him even as Freddy forced a smile and told him to help himself to coffee. But Brains hesitated. On the table was a laptop showing a series of images from the security cameras on the upper levels. The screen was split - on one side an image of Sir Reuben's office. As Brains watched, Sir Reuben rose to his feet and left the room. As soon as he was gone, the man from MI5 got up and went round to his desk, taking a good look at the papers the other man had left on there. Then, with a furtive glance at the door, he pulled a small device out of his pocket and plugged it into Sir Reuben's computer. Brains recognised it immediately - it would download the contents of the hard drive in seconds. He wondered if there would be anything useful to find. The way Younger chuckled at the sight suggested that Sir Reuben and his team had expected it to happen. Clearly they'd planned all this very carefully.

Younger looked up at Brains. "See anyone you recognise?"

Brains went to shake his head. "I-I'm n-not MI5." Then he stopped dead, his attention caught by an image on the left-hand side of the screen. Sahara was leading three men down a corridor, pausing outside the lab he'd been working in just a few days ago. Bringing up the rear, just ahead of Thomas, was a tall, blond figure Brains did know - someone he knew extremely well, in fact.

Younger smiled. "Must be frustrating, knowing help's just a few feet away."

Brains swallowed. How was he going to get word to John? He had to, he just had to.

"Where's my coffee?" Marcus didn't sound happy as he yelled from the lab.

With a last, longing look at the screen, Brains turned to the coffee pot.

"You took your time," Marcus said when he returned.

"S-sorry," Brains said. He handed Marcus his coffee and watched as he took a sip, finally turning back to his work.

Five minutes later Marcus was slumped in his chair snoring lightly. Brains tightened the lid on his bottle of eye drops and smiled. The drops were actually a potent knock-out drug which took effect in seconds and lasted just ten minutes or so, the victim snapping awake with no recollection of falling asleep in the first place. This was the first chance he'd had to use it and he had to make the most of it.

Brains knew his opportunities were limited. He had no way of breaking through the doors and getting himself up to the main complex. Even if he could drag Marcus over to the door in order to place his palm against the scanner, he'd still have to break the security code and he didn't have the time or the equipment to do so.

His eyes fell upon Gordon's diving gear and he wondered if he had time to get it on, swim out of the cave and meet up with the MI5 team before they left. It might have been worth a try except that he knew he had no chance of getting near them, not with Thomas and Sahara guarding them so closely.

No, what he needed was lying in a locked cabinet in Professor Franklin's office. Alan's watch... The man had shown it to Brains the previous day, full of awe at the advanced technology enjoyed by the International Rescue team. Franklin had bemoaned the fact that the need to have the jammers constantly running in order to keep Four's location secret meant he couldn't risk playing with the communicator. One day though, he told Brains. He couldn't wait to see what he could learn from it.

Brains hadn't spent a great deal of time with Parker over the years - they had nothing in common apart from IR, so neither of them ever knew quite what to say to the other - but he had taken up the man's offer of a short course in lock picking. You never knew when something like that might come in handy, Brains had thought. Sure enough, now was that time. The tools he was provided with in the lab were enough for the job - Brains would have smuggled them back to his room if it hadn't been for the constant guard stationed in the corridor making an escape attempt pointless. It was the matter of a minute or so to get the cabinet open, clean up Gordon's watch, which looked a little charred in comparison to Alan's, and make the switch. Closing and locking the cabinet, he slipped back out of the office, feeling for the first time in days that things were going his way.

That was when he bumped into Freddy as he came out of the bathroom. Brains heart sank. He stared pleadingly at the man, knowing it would do him no good, that Freddy would see it as the chance to regain some ground with his uncle. He dropped his head and waited for the call to Younger.

It never came. He cautiously raised his head to see Freddy gazing at him thoughtfully. Then he looked away, raised a hand as if to say _I never saw you_ and walked off. Unable to believe this turn of events, Brains followed Freddy down the corridor, pausing by the kitchen to watch him take his seat as if nothing had happened. Their eyes met for a moment and Brains nodded briefly. Whether or not he could count Freddy as an ally he didn't know, but it seemed yet another avenue of hope.

Feeling a lot brighter he made his way back to the lab. Marcus would be waking up at any moment, he thought. Sure enough, within a minute the man jerked awake, looking round in confusion for a moment then, seeing Brains sitting there as if he hadn't moved, relaxing.

Yawning, he looked down at his empty coffee cup. "Was this decaff?"

"I-I don't know," Brains told him. "I-it's what F-Freddy had."

"Get me another one. And make sure it's proper coffee this time."

Brains did as he was told. Freddy ignored him, whilst Younger was still studying his laptop.

"They've got no idea," he announced. "It's all going to plan."

Brains smiled to himself. It certainly was.


	28. Chapter 28

_As always, a big, big thank you to everyone giving me feedback on this. Bee_

Chapter Twenty-Eight

It was strange being the only brother left on the island...

Virgil couldn't remember any other time it had been just him, but for the next few hours that was how it was going to be. It had felt wrong watching Thunderbird Three launch knowing that her usual co-pilot - Scott - wasn't inside. He couldn't help feeling nervous about the flight - Tin-Tin knew what she was doing but Gordon rarely ventured into space. Jeff had debated long and hard whether to send him up, clearly not wanting to risk losing two sons in two days, but Alan's increasingly forlorn expression whenever he'd called in from Five had decided him. It wasn't fair to leave the youngest brother alone in space when he was clearly struggling to cope with his grief. Gordon himself had pointed out that since the loss of Four he'd been forced to spend time in the simulators on all the other 'birds, so why not put that practice to some good use. He didn't need to add that he'd feel a whole lot better with his closest brother around, but that just made Virgil feel more alone than ever.

Virgil just couldn't comprehend a world without Scott. From the moment of his birth, his brother had been the biggest constant in his life. John had never been a particularly hands-on big brother - Virgil's earliest memories of his older blond brother tended to involve being stared at thoughtfully by big blue eyes, usually as a precursor to some kind of poke or prod, or the attempted force-feeding of something pretty much guaranteed to make him sick, John's refrain of "I only wanted to see what happened if..." being one of the biggest memories of his early childhood. It seemed John's days of scientific experimentation had pretty much started with Virgil's birth. Scott, on the other hand, had always been there to save him, singing him nursery rhymes - badly - to cheer him up, always looking out for him. His mother had died, his grandmother had only been a visitor to the family home up until that point, his father was distant both physically - you couldn't get further away than the moon when it came down to it - and, especially after his mother's death, emotionally. Only Scott had been there for him all his life.

And now he was gone.

Virgil tried to get his head round the idea and found he couldn't. How could Scott be dead when the rest of the world carried on as normal? How could _he_ carry on? He would, he knew that - when IR had first been mooted the brothers had discussed the risks and what might happen in the worst case scenario. Scott had been the most vocal in his insistence that the risks were worth it and that if anything happened to him, the others were to carry on and live their lives without the crippling grief their father had experienced after their mother's death. Virgil had agreed, had said exactly the same about his own death if it should ever happen. But that didn't make it any easier to do as his brother asked.

Life would go on, but Virgil would always feel as if a big part of it was missing.

He turned back to his laptop to check out the next step in the construction of New Four - a task he'd lost all enthusiasm for - only to be distracted by the beeping of his wrist comm.

"Hi John."

"Hey, Virg. How's it going?"

Virgil didn't bother with the truth, although he appreciated his brother's call, understanding that John would have realised how lonely he was feeling right now. "Okay. How about you? How are things in London?"

"It was weird spending the night in Penny's apartment without her," John admitted. "I'm heading off to the airport now to meet up with the team from MI5. We should be at Sir Reuben's in about four hours. Wish me luck."

Virgil did.

"Do me a favour," John went on. "Give Parker a call later, will you? He's taking this hard. He could do with someone to talk to."

"He's there with you?"

"Yeah. No one knows about Penny, remember. He didn't want to let something slip to the rest of the servants at Foxley-Heath so he came up here. He's in a terrible state, Virg. It's freaking me out to be honest. I'm not so good at comforting people."

"I'll check in with him," Virgil promised. He didn't think he'd be much use in cheering Parker up, but it might help them both to talk to someone who was suffering in the same way. "Johnny?"

"Yeah?"

"I know you don't think Scott's alive, but-"

"Virg..."

"No, I understand how unlikely it is. But don't dismiss any clues just because you believe he's dead."

"I won't."

Virgil got the feeling John was merely humouring him. He wasn't going to get into a fight about it now, though, trusting his brother not to miss anything important, whether it fitted in with his theories or not.

"And find something to prove that Sir Reuben took Four. Make him pay for it."

"I'll do my best, Virg. Promise."

This time Virgil knew John meant what he said.

The brothers smiled at each other for a moment then John disconnected. Virgil allowed himself a few minutes to wallow in his misery before telling himself firmly that Scott would want him to get New Four finished. He threw himself into his work, glad for something to take his mind off things.

* * *

><p>John hadn't said much to the team from MI5. They didn't know he was Scott's brother, believing him to be working for the American military. As they flew out to the island the British men discussed their case, John occasionally chipping in with some comment about Scott's mission. But mostly he just kept a close ear on the conversation just in case there should be some mention of Penny's links to International Rescue. But, although a few people in MI5 were aware of this, along with the theft of Four, these men clearly hadn't been privy to such knowledge. As far as they were aware, they were simply looking into the murder of their old boss and the suspicious deaths of the agents sent to investigate. John hadn't been entirely happy to learn that Sir Reuben had been told the true purpose of their visit, along with the real identity of Lola, but he'd had to accept that they'd needed some legitimate grounds for their search and that MI5 would be unlikely to be interested in the death of some random woman from Kansas. John wouldn't have objected to an illegal search, but he supposed the others had rules to follow. As for Sir Reuben, if he was guilty of the murders, he'd be well-prepared for an interrogation, forewarned or not.<p>

They were met by a young woman who appeared business-like and efficient as she welcomed them to RMC's research facility and escorted them into the house and along to a large office. She chatted to them amiably as she served them coffee, informing them that she herself had worked for MI5 just a few years ago and that she, like her employer, had been horrified to learn of the death of one of the agency's top operatives.

"Sir Reuben was surprised to learn you'd sent agents here," she told them. "He was quite hurt to think MI5 might suspect him of anything."

No one said anything in response to this.

"He'll be with you in a moment," she told them before leaving the room. Not that the men could do anything other than sit there, not while a large man whose bearing screamed ex-army was stationed at the door, watching them intently.

The meeting with Sir Reuben went just as everyone, whichever side they were on, had expected. As Sahara had indicated, the man insisted he knew nothing about the murder of his old friend.

"I must be losing my touch," he told them. "I had no idea Scott and Lola were agents. Though why you should want to go to such lengths to investigate me..."

He shook his head and sighed. "I suppose you did what you had to do. But Randolph and I were friends. I'd do anything to find whoever killed him. Anything."

"So Lady Penelope's death was just an accident?" one of the men asked.

"Indeed. She and Scott announced their intention to leave for London. At the time I believed their story about wanting to meet up with my nephew to discuss their business deal. But now... Well, I can only assume they'd concluded their investigations and had no further need to stay here."

"How do you know about the business deal?" John asked suddenly. "The only person who was supposed to know about that was your nephew."

For the first time Sir Reuben faltered. He'd been in the process of raising his coffee cup to his lips but he put it back down without taking a sip.

"Freddy told me," Sahara said quickly. "I felt it was my duty to tell Sir Reuben."

"And I'm very grateful, my dear," Sir Reuben said. "Yes, it didn't surprise me. My nephew has these wild ideas from time to time. I was disappointed of course - I'd hoped for great things from my company's association with Mr Hackenbacker, but it wasn't to be."

"They didn't leave the island because you'd discovered the truth?" John asked.

"Oh, but I didn't know the truth, did I?" Sir Reuben pointed out. "Not the real truth. Scott and Lola agents... I still find it hard to believe."

"Where's your nephew?" one of the other agents asked. "I'd like to speak to him."

"He's still in London," Sahara said.

"Where? When we sent someone to check on him his flat was empty. He didn't come back last night."

"That's not unusual for Freddy," Sahara told them. "He's probably with some girl. He'll be back eventually."

"If you do hear from him..."

"I'll be sure to let you know. But I'm sure Freddy won't be able to tell you anything."

There was silence for a moment before the discussion moved on to the large quantities of RMC weaponry which had managed to find their way into the hands of terrorists over the last few years. John let his mind drift, wondering what was going on with Freddy. From all Scott had said about him, the man might well have decided to take a few days off with a girlfriend. But he couldn't help thinking it was all a little convenient. He didn't trust Sir Reuben one bit.

It was so hard, he thought, sitting here with the man who'd most likely killed his brother and his friends. He suddenly felt terribly tired. Far from wanting to grab Sir Reuben by the throat and choke the life out of him - the idea which had kept him going ever since he'd left Tracy Island - he just wanted to get as far away from him as he possibly could.

"I believe you wanted a tour of our facilities," Sahara said, rising to her feet.

John dragged himself back to the matter in hand and followed two of the MI5 agents out into the corridor. One man stayed behind with a few more questions for Sir Reuben and, as John knew, the task of copying whatever records were held on the man's computer - if he got the chance. He'd also place a bug in the room. John wasn't sure that Sir Reuben, however out of practice in the art of espionage he claimed to be, wouldn't find it easily enough - it seemed likely he'd scan his office as soon as the visitors were gone. No, the MI5 listening device would be found soon enough. But the bug John had planted... that was International Rescue technology and far harder to detect.

There was little to interest John as he followed Sahara around the complex. He could see more exciting facilities and experiments in his own home. But when they came to a room full of sophisticated computer equipment he knew that the woman who ignored their presence as she stared at the screen, occasionally typing in some complex code, must have been the one to mislead him so effectively at the undersea rescue and so set up this whole nightmare. He made a silent promise to get back at her, wishing he could get his hands on the equipment and prove RMC's involvement once and for all. But the brief was to observe, not to take action, and he forced himself to stay calm.

"Sir?" Sahara's voice brought him back to reality and, realising the rest of the group had already left the room, he followed them away from the work area and along to the living quarters. When they were shown into Brains' room he found himself overcome with emotion. All the man's possessions were there - at least, everything he wouldn't have taken with him on his daytrip to London.

"He wasn't leaving with Lady Penelope and Mr Tracy?" he asked. _Mr Tracy_... it was killing him to refer to his brother so impersonally.

"No," Sahara said. "I don't know why."

"Maybe our agents hadn't finished here after all," one of the other men commented.

"What do you want us to do with Hiram's things?" Sahara asked, ignoring the comment. "I could have them packed up ready for you to take away with you. Maybe Mr Tracy - senior, I mean - would want them."

John thought for a moment. He'd promised Virgil not to overlook anything and if Brains had been given any warning that he was under threat, he might have been able to leave a message. But, for all the room looked undisturbed, he could pretty much guarantee it had been thoroughly searched and he doubted there would be anything to find. Still, he didn't want these people keeping his friend's possessions...

"We'll take them. Thank you."

"They'll be ready when you leave," Sahara assured him. "Now then, if you'll follow me..."

They followed her, increasingly convinced they'd find nothing to help with the investigation.

* * *

><p>In the hidden complex, Brains was planning his next move. Unseen by Marcus and under the pretence of typing up his latest findings, he'd composed a lengthy message for Jeff and the boys. It would tell them all they needed to know - if he could only get it to them. Those jammers were a real obstacle. He guessed they were housed in the large metal boxes strategically positioned around Four, but getting to them would be a problem. His natural caution was an asset now - it would be easy to rush into something and reveal his intentions to Marcus. That would be the end for him - and for Scott and Penny. Somehow he had to convince them he was completely obedient, knowing full well that even after he'd got the information to his friends, they'd need time to act on it. There was no quick and easy way out of this for anyone.<p>

Finishing his message with a final assurance that they could hold out for a while longer - but not too long, please - he slipped the data pad back into his pocket.

Rising from his workbench he wasn't surprised when Marcus demanded to know where he was going.

"B-bathroom," he said, blushing a little.

"Hurry it up," Marcus said, turning back to his own work.

Brains made his way past the kitchen, pausing to take a quick look inside. Younger had made himself a sandwich and looked perfectly relaxed, whilst Freddy finished one cigarette, stubbed it out in an overflowing ashtray and lit another. The stress was clearly getting to him.

Sneaking a glance at the laptop, Brains saw the MI5 team were back in Sir Reuben's office. As he watched they shook hands with the man and exited the room. Sir Reuben watched them go then sat back in his chair, clearly deep in thought.

Younger smiled in satisfaction. "Looks like it went well."

Freddy said nothing.

Brains slipped into the bathroom and locked the door behind him. He'd missed his chance to get a message to John whilst he was on the island, but, with Alan's watch in his pocket, he no longer felt the same sense of urgency he had a couple of hours ago. Probably better to let John get safely away anyway, he thought. The last thing they needed was another accident or another captive Tracy. He pulled out his data pad and connected it to Alan's watch, replacing it in his pocket, checking in the mirror to make sure the watch couldn't be seen. All he needed to do now was block those jammers without drawing attention to himself. He had an idea - didn't he always? - but he was going to need some help.

Twenty minutes later Thomas returned and Freddy and Eric Younger headed back to the upper level. Marcus was quiet, clearly disappointed that he hadn't had as much fun in taunting his rival as he'd hoped. Brains carried on working for a while before turning to his guard.

"I-it's t-time for Scott's m-medication."

Thomas checked his watch and nodded, escorting Brains back to his room. As was his usual practice he didn't go in, merely closing and locking the door and standing outside. He looked in through the small window, the blind which usually covered it for privacy having been removed when the captives were first locked away.

Scott was dozing but Brains had no hesitation in waking him up. For a start he did need his pain meds, but more importantly, Brains had a job for him.

It took Scott a few minutes to gather himself together enough to listen to Brains' story. Mindful of Thomas's presence he resisted the compulsion to grab his friend and hug him - Brains would have run a mile at such a gesture anyway, usually regarding the Tracys with slight panic when one or the other showed any such brotherly affection.

"You're a genius!" he announced.

Brains shrugged. It wasn't as if he hadn't heard that one before and he still had trouble accepting the compliment.

"I n-need your h-help," he said. "B-but i-if you d-don't want t-to..."

"Brains, I'll do anything, you know I will," Scott said, glad to have the chance to do something other than lie there and sleep. He just hoped it didn't involve too much movement - although he felt a hundred times better than yesterday, he was still in pain even with the medication, and he hadn't managed anything more adventurous than an unsteady lurch to the bathroom since being shut in the room.

Brains quickly explained. Scott was quiet as he thought it over. "Primitive, Brains," he finally said.

"I-I know. I-I'm sorry. I c-can't think of a-any other w-way."

"Me neither." Scott smiled stiffly. He knew his captors weren't going to be pleased. But it had to be done.

"Thirty minutes?" he suggested. "It'll give me time to get things ready."

Brains agreed. "G-good l-luck."

"You too."

Brains headed to the door, knocking on it to get Thomas's attention. With a final smile at Scott, he left the room and made his way back to the lab, closely followed by his guard.

Brains did his best not to keep looking at his watch but it was hard. He was relieved when Professor Franklin ambled up for a chat about some fascinating discovery he'd made during his investigation of Four's propulsion system. Anything for some distraction.

A sudden series of bangs and shouts shattered the quiet of the lab. Brains, along with Marcus and the Professor, looked up sharply.

"Sounds like your friend," Marcus said. He watched as Thomas disappeared in the direction of the living quarters. Brains slipped a hand into his pocket, checking the cable linking his data pad and the wrist comm was still attached. He moved a finger to one of the buttons of the watch and waited.

Thomas charged down the corridor. As he ran past the room where the woman was kept he noted that she'd appeared at the window looking surprised and concerned. But he didn't have time to give her more than a passing thought, pulling out his keys and unlocking Scott's door.

The banging on the door stopped when he barged into the room. Scott was leaning heavily against the wall, clutching his damaged ribs and breathing harshly. He fixed Thomas with a feeble glare as he staggered away from him.

"What the hell's wrong with you?" Thomas asked.

"I need to get out of here," Scott told him. "It's driving me crazy being shut up in here. I want to see Penny."

"You're not going anywhere. Shut up and lie down." Satisfied that there was nothing for him to worry about, Thomas turned to leave, only to be hit in the back by a well-aimed shoe. He turned back to Scott in annoyance.

"Give up, Tracy. You'd be better off saving your energy."

"I've got to see Penny! I don't even know if she's still alive. All I've got is your word for it. You could have killed her. You might be doing anything to her. I need to know she's okay."

"She's okay. Now shut up." Thomas turned to leave again, only for the sound of a glass smashing to get his attention again.

"I'm not clearing that up," he said. "It can wait until your friend gets back. If you cut yourself it's your own fault." He indicated Scott's one bare foot.

Scott pushed his bed over, shoved everything off the top of the bedside table, then looked frantically round the room as he tried to find something else to destroy. He was struggling to stay upright now, deathly pale and gasping for breath. But he clearly wasn't going to let the pain stop him from trashing the room. Deciding enough was enough, Thomas stepped forward as Scott picked up a bottle of water Brains had left for him. As Thomas reached out to grab his arm he stumbled backwards. The bottle flew out of his hand, the water shooting out and straight onto the wires of the bedside lamp which Scott had spent the past fifteen minutes fraying with a makeshift blade forged from a toothbrush he'd snapped in half.

The effect was immediate. There was a bright flash and a bang, then the lights went out as the power supply short-circuited. It wasn't just the lights, though. As Brains had anticipated, every piece of electrical equipment in the lower level complex shut down. It only lasted a second, but it was long enough for Brains to do what he had to do. A second later the back-up generator kicked in and everything started working again - except for the bedside lamp. A small flame began to flicker, setting fire to a newspaper which had fallen onto the floor next to the frayed cable.

Thomas threw Scott out into the corridor where he landed in a heap on the floor. Picking him up, Thomas dragged him across to Penny's room as he yelled at Marcus to get a fire extinguisher. Quickly unlocking the door he pushed Scott inside, nearly knocking Penny over, before slamming and locking the door and rushing to help Marcus.

It didn't take long to put the fire out. The security guard and the engineer surveyed the room for a moment.

"I'd better tell Sahara," Thomas finally said.

Marcus watched him go. He wondered if the break in power had been long enough to allow any transmission from Thunderbird Four to get through. He hoped not. He and the Professor had done their best to identify and destroy any transmitters. They'd found two: one obvious, the other hidden away in the inner workings of the engines, and the presence of the jammers was more of a precaution now than anything else. No, he was sure they'd be okay. Even if a signal had got through, the emergency power supply had come on almost instantly and there would surely be no time to trace the source of the transmission. They'd be fine. There was the watch in Franklin's office of course, but the cabinet it had been placed in was lead-lined. There was no chance of any signal getting through from there.

It was a sobering experience, however. No one had really expected Scott to put up a fight, not after the beating he'd taken the day before. He'd be punished severely later, Marcus thought. Maybe he'd get his guinea pig yet.

In the lab Brains removed his hand from his pocket. The message was sent. Now all they had to do was wait for help to arrive.


	29. Chapter 29

_Thank you to every one who reviewed or put the story on alert. Rachel: thanks for the review, I'm really pleased you like what I'm doing with Brains. Whirlgirl: John and Penny? Maybe there's a reason why she didn't want him playing her husband..._

Chapter Twenty-Nine

The flight up to Thunderbird Five was uneventful, much to Gordon's relief. Space wasn't his favourite environment and he was never entirely comfortable as a passenger in the rocket ship, let alone when he had to take responsibility for some of the controls. A simulation was one thing, doing it for real - especially when every now and again you were distracted by another painful reminder that your eldest brother was dead - was a completely different matter. Fortunately Alan realised how he would be feeling and kept in radio contact all the way.

When they docked with the space station Alan was waiting for them. The second the airlock pressurised he yanked the door open and flung himself into Tin-Tin's arms, only letting go of her for the briefest moment as he reached out to grip Gordon's shoulder, the only greeting he could manage, words clearly being beyond him.

Tactfully absenting himself to give the pair some time alone, Gordon made his way to the control room. With nothing else to do he looked at the stars for a while then grew bored, turning to the other window to watch his home planet. Not for the first time he wondered how Alan and John kept themselves sane up here. Space was pretty, sure, but it was empty. It just couldn't compare to the sea, which was just as beautiful and, more importantly, full of life. Seeing the vast expanse of the Pacific Ocean he couldn't help wishing he was there now. For the first time he looked forward to the launch of New Four and getting back where he belonged. With a pang of guilt at what seemed like a betrayal of his lost 'bird, he glanced at his watch and decided it was time to get Alan home.

But as it turned out, Alan was in no hurry to leave. Despite every second of his isolation up on Five having been torture ever since he'd heard the news of Scott's passing, now it was time to go home he found himself reluctant to leave. He simply didn't want to return to a home which held so many reminders of his brother and where he'd feel his absence even more. Nor did he relish the prospect of a flight in Thunderbird Three without his usual co-pilot. Sure, Tin-Tin and Brains had filled in for Scott on occasion, but they'd always been very much the substitutes. Things were never going to be the same again.

They spent the next couple of hours sharing memories of Scott, finding a little comfort in coming up with increasingly unpleasant ways of exacting revenge on his killers. Finally, in response to Jeff's increasingly frustrated demands for a little action, they switched Five onto automatic response and, after a final check that everything was running smoothly, made their way to the rocket. Alan took one last look around the control room wondering when - or even_ if_ - he'd be back. With Scott gone he'd most likely end up taking charge of Thunderbird One. Virgil was the most logical candidate for Scott's role, of course, but, aside from the reluctance they all knew he'd feel at the prospect of stepping into the shoes of his beloved brother, he would never willingly relinquish control of Thunderbird Two. Virgil had always been at the heart of every rescue and he'd fight tooth and nail against having to sit things out at Mobile Control.

"Alan," Tin-Tin called softly, "It's time to go."

With a wan smile, Alan switched off the lights in the control room and followed his girlfriend to the airlock. Minutes later Thunderbird Three disengaged and started its journey home.

In the deserted control room a small blue light began to flash...

* * *

><p><em>An hour earlier<em>

Sir Reuben McAllister waited impatiently outside the door of his office. The team from MI5 had left just a few minutes ago, Sahara and Thomas entrusted with the task of ensuring they got away with no last-minute hitches. He'd been more than happy when he'd heard the sound of the helicopter taking off. The danger had passed for now, but the investigation was far from over. He still had work to do.

The door opened and the woman John had noticed in the computer suite came out. She shut the door behind her and nodded to her employer.

"They bugged you. Standard MI5 device. Do you want me to remove it?"

"No," Sir Reuben told her. "Not just yet. Thank you, Sonja." He watched the woman leave then made his way to his living quarters where Sahara was waiting.

Twenty minutes later, confident that MI5 would have their surveillance equipment up and running, Sir Reuben and Sahara entered the office.

"I can't believe it," Sahara said as she took a seat opposite the desk, pausing to allow Sir Reuben to sit down, not wanting the creak of his chair to mask any of her words as it strained against the weight it was forced to bear. "To think they believed you might have something to do with this. Poor Scott and Lola - I mean, Lady Penelope. It must have been an accident, don't you think?"

"Hm?" Sir Reuben was apparently lost in thought. "What was that, my dear?"

"Is something wrong?" Sahara asked, her voice full of concern. "You look worried."

"I am." Sir Reuben paused. "It's Freddy..."

"Freddy? He'll be fine. You know how often you have to pull him up for spending too much time enjoying himself when he should be working. He's probably back at his place by now getting some sleep before another big night out."

"You're probably right. Maybe I'll call him anyway. He needs to know MI5 are going to want to talk to him."

But when Sir Reuben dialled Freddy's number there was no reply. Eventually he gave up. "He's not answering, Sahara."

"Why are you so worried about him?"

"I've been thinking... I didn't say anything to those men, but I've had my suspicions about my nephew for a while now."

"You think Freddy's involved?" Sahara hated herself for going along with this. She had to keep reminding herself that it was her neck on the line if they didn't find some way to deflect the investigation away from Sir Reuben. "That's crazy."

"Is it? Those weapons, the ones that found their way into the hands of terrorists... Freddy was in charge of that order. According to the paperwork he submitted, every item reached its intended destination. But what if he diverted a few? He could easily amend the documentation."

Sahara was silent for a moment, apparently thinking this over. "I can't believe Freddy would do something like that."

"He likes money," Sir Reuben pointed out. "And he's desperate to make a name for himself. His deal with Scott and Lola is proof of that. He didn't know they were agents, remember. Who knows what he said to them, especially if he'd been drinking. "

"You think they found out he supplied those weapons?"

"If they did and Freddy knew they were on to him..."

"No!" Sahara sounded suitably horrified. "You can't think Freddy had something to do with their deaths. He was in London."

"But he's good friends with the pilot. If Marlowe told Freddy they were heading to London, maybe they had time to plan something. There were no bodies remember - Marlowe could have parachuted out, he didn't have to be in that helicopter when it went down. Freddy could have arranged for him to be picked up, paid him off, then gone into hiding himself."

"This is insane," Sahara told him. "You can't be serious."

"So where is he?" Sir Reuben asked. "Innocent men don't disappear, Sahara."

"He's got a meeting at three o'clock UK time, hasn't he?" Sahara asked.

"I believe so."

"Well then, you'll see. He'll turn up and everything will be fine. Honestly, Sir Reuben, Freddy wouldn't do something like this." She laughed. "You'll be accusing him of killing Randolph Pemberton next."

Sir Reuben hesitated. "Freddy was in London when Randolph died - it was the day after his birthday."

"This is insane! I can't listen to any more of this. Why would Freddy kill your friend?"

Sir Reuben let out a long, weary sigh. "You're right; it's madness to even think it. All this business has upset me, I'm not thinking straight. I'm getting too old for this, Sahara. Maybe I should have a lie down."

"I've got work to do myself," Sahara said, somewhat coldly. "I'll see you later - and I guarantee that Freddy will have turned up for his meeting and have some excuse as to why he's been out of touch. I'm guessing she's blonde."

"I hope you're right, my dear, I really do." Sir Reuben didn't sound optimistic. "I know Freddy and I don't get along too well, but he's Xavier's son and I feel some responsibility for him. But I have a duty to the company, too. If Freddy _is_ doing deals with terrorists..."

"You'll turn him in?"

"I don't see I have any choice."

There was silence for a moment then Sahara got up. "I'm going to call Freddy again," she announced, making a point of slamming the door as she left.

"What a mess!" Sir Reuben sighed to the empty room before getting up himself. "Freddy, what have you done?" He too made sure the door could be heard closing behind him.

"Good work," he told Sahara who was waiting outside the room. "I think that's given them something to think about."

It certainly had.

* * *

><p>John had been quiet ever since the helicopter had taken off, frustrated by his failure to find anything useful. He held out little hope of getting any information from Brains' possessions or Sir Reuben's computer. He'd asked for a copy of the information taken from the hard drive but, like the MI5 men, he fully expected the files to be completely legitimate - Sir Reuben had made it far too easy for them to get the information in the first place. The only possibility now of gleaning something useful would come from the bug he'd placed. The MI5 one would be found soon, he guessed - Sir Reuben's team were too good to miss that.<p>

But apparently they had. The man listening in on headphones suddenly called out to them to be quiet, turning on a small pair of speakers so they could all hear the conversation.

"Frederick McAllister?" one of them mused. "Could be."

"Or Sir Reuben's leading you on," John said.

"That's a possibility too," another man agreed. "But we're going to have to look into this Freddy a little more closely." He immediately put in a call requesting a surveillance team to be sent to the office where Freddy was due for his meeting.

John went back to looking out of the window, wondering if this was the route Scott had taken on his final journey.

When his wrist comm vibrated violently some twenty minutes later he jumped so high that the other men stopped their discussion and turned to look at him.

"Everything okay?"

John struggled to give any kind of response. The signal - a ten second burst which immediately told him it was no normal call - had come from Alan's watch. Alan's _old_ watch. Before leaving Five John had set up a special tracking device to monitor any transmissions from the two missing watches as well as Thunderbird Four. The signal would have been picked up by Five, but of course, with her being on automatic, it would have had to be relayed back to Base and the remaining wrist comms. He'd have given anything right now to be able to see what the message was, but there was no way of checking without giving away the fact that he was no ordinary military man. The only relief came from the knowledge that his father and brothers would also have received the signal. He could only guess what their reaction might be but he knew that, like him, they'd be wondering if Scott and the others were not only alive but had finally managed to make contact.

"How long till we reach the airport?"

"Couple of hours."

John forced himself to take a deep breath. Every second was going to last an age. But for the first time there was hope. He refused to believe it was a coincidence that just after leaving RMC's base the signal was transmitted. At the very least it could lead them directly to Thunderbird Four, assuming the thieves were storing every stolen item in the same place. At best - well, it all depended on who had sent the message...

* * *

><p>Penny's reunion with Scott was brief but heartfelt. She'd been desperately worried as well as driven out of her mind with boredom due to her solitary confinement, so there was no attempt to downplay her delight at seeing him. She'd hugged him tightly, quickly letting go when she realised how much pain it caused him. Forcing herself to calm down - something she rarely had to do - she helped him to his feet and took his weight as she guided him towards the bed.<p>

"What's going on?" she asked.

Scott explained Brains' plan and his own part in it. After every few words he had to stop to catch his breath and he feared Thomas might have caused some more damage to his already injured ribs as he'd thrown him around. It would be worth it, though, if Brains had managed to send his message.

Penny couldn't hide her delight at the news that the Tracys would be coming to the rescue.

"You just hold on, Scott," she told him. "Help will be here very soon."

"I..."

The door was flung open and a very unhappy Sahara strode in. Thomas followed her and Marcus lurked in the corridor, clearly excited at the prospect of watching Scott suffer for what he'd done.

"That was stupid," Sahara told him. "You really think we won't kill you if you start causing us trouble?"

"Brains won't help you if anything happens to Scott," Penny said.

"You can shut up," Sahara told her. "Don't think this romantic little interlude is going to last. You're getting a roommate alright, but it's not Scott."

Penny was pushed to one side as Thomas dragged Scott to his feet.

"Where are you taking him?"

"Back where he came from."

The door slammed shut and the key turned in the lock. Penny ran to the window and watched as Scott disappeared into his old room. Marcus stood at the door and Penny could only gauge what was happening from the man's body language. Finally he turned around and the smile of satisfaction on his face chilled her to the bone. She sank to the floor wondering if the risk had been worth it. What was the point of a rescue being mounted if there was no one left to save?

Eventually her door opened again and another bed was brought in along with a few bits and pieces she guessed belonged to Brains.

"I'm going to love seeing how Brains copes sharing a room with you," Sahara told her. "I'm guessing he hasn't spent too much time around women."

"What about Scott?"

Sahara shrugged. "I think he's learnt his lesson. Thomas is a good teacher."

"You're supposed to like him," Penny said bitterly.

"I like my job even more. It's a shame - he doesn't look too good, but it's his own fault."

"Won't you at least let Brains take a look at him?" Penny asked.

Sahara shook her head.

"_Please..."_ Penny would happily beg if it meant helping Scott, but Sahara was having none of it.

"Brains has got work to do. Tomorrow, maybe. Or the day after - if Scott lasts that long." She laughed at the look of horror on Penny's face. "Look on the bright side - at least Marcus isn't getting hold of him for one of his tests. Not yet, anyway. But be warned - any more tricks from you three and that's what's going to happen."

She left the room, allowing Thomas to lock the door. Walking across the corridor she looked into the other room. Scott lay in a crumpled heap in the corner. He didn't move while Thomas, with Marcus's help, stripped the room of everything except the thin mattress which they left on the floor. The water supply was turned off and the lightbulbs removed. Sahara flipped a switch on a unit on the outside wall and the heating system powered down. Despite this being a tropical island, the lower levels needed constant heat since the underground caves which housed them were always freezing. Scott was in for an unpleasant time of it, not that Sahara cared. He'd made a fool out of her with his plan to see Penny and he was going to pay for it.

When Scott finally came round, he wished he hadn't. Lying shivering in the dark, in agony after his second beating, he prayed his family would arrive soon, wondering how much longer he could hold out.

* * *

><p>The helicopter settled gently on the ground and John immediately snapped off his safety belt. He was the first one out of the aircraft, desperate to get some space so he could find out what was going on. But before he could call his father a familiar voice yelled his name.<p>

"Mr John, Sir!"

"Parker?"

John barely had time to register the man's wide smile before he was clutched in a tight embrace.

"They're h'alive!"

"All of them?"

"Yes. Milady, Mr Scott, Mr Brains. They're h'alright."

Despite having been hoping for the news ever since the signal had come through, John found he couldn't bring himself to believe it. But Parker looked a lot more cheerful than he had that morning and he was certainly in the mood for a celebration as he hugged John even more tightly. For one awful moment John thought Parker might actually kiss him, but thankfully the chauffeur registered his yelp of fear and belatedly regained his sense of propriety, letting go and stepping back in embarrassment.

"H'I'm so sorry, Sir. H'I forgot myself."

"Forget it, Parker." John certainly wanted to - hypnosis maybe? "What's the plan?"

"We 'ave to get to Tracy H'Island. Your father's h'already making plans."

"Come on, then." John led the way to where his private jet awaited. "You can tell me all about it while I'm logging the flight plan."

Ignoring the amused expressions of the MI5 operatives - he really didn't want to know what they were thinking right now - he set off towards the jet at a run, Parker keeping pace. Ten minutes later they were in the air and John could finally get the information he'd been craving for the past couple of hours. He didn't think he'd ever felt happier. Scott was alive (Brains and Penny, too), Thunderbird Four was found - and Sir Reuben was going to be brought to justice. There would be no blaming Freddy for everything - although the man was going to have to answer for his own crimes.

Now all they had to do was plan a rescue.


	30. Chapter 30

_Finally... Really sorry for the delay in posting - this was one chapter that worked in my head but not on the page. Got there in the end, so hope you enjoy it. As always, I can't thank everyone who's reading and reviewing enough, it really makes the effort worthwhile. Bee_

Chapter Thirty

Brains had known that his signal would cause consternation amongst the Tracys, but even he couldn't have foreseen the uproar which arose the moment everyone's watches began to vibrate. It was just as well Thunderbird Three was on autopilot at the time, because once everyone realised just what was going on they'd abandoned their posts and begun dancing around the cockpit, laughing, hugging and kissing. Gordon made sure to get in on the act, deciding that for once Alan wasn't going to have all the fun. It took the sudden frantic beeping of an alarm to tell them they were nearing re-entry and it was time to take manual control once more. Alan only just got back to his seat in time, firing the retro rockets with more force than he needed to, not caring about the damage it might do to Three, so desperate was he to get home and find out exactly what was going on. Gordon was on the radio to Base, apparently unable to get anything sensible out of his father. It seemed there was chaos on the island, too.

Virgil had been working on New Four's engines. When the signal came through he couldn't bring himself to believe it at first. Then he was up and running for the lounge, oblivious to the can of oil he'd knocked over as he'd extricated himself from the engine casing - at least until he found himself sliding halfway across the silo. Recovering his balance, he skidded into the elevator and shot up to the lounge, charging over to the desk where his father was sitting, staring at his computer screen in complete shock.

"Dad? Is it them?"

Jeff looked up and slowly nodded before breaking out into the biggest grin Virgil had ever seen.

"They're safe. They-"

_"Virgil Tracy!"_ Grandma rarely carried a communicator, and certainly never when she was on the island. She'd only come into the lounge to see if Jeff wanted a coffee and the sight of her grandson tracking oily footprints across the carpet wasn't something she wanted to see. She was even more surprised when Virgil ran across the room, picked her up and swung her round.

_"_Put me_ down!"_

Virgil did so, laughing along with his father. It was this which gave Grandma the first hint that something good might have happened. Once she'd recovered her breath, instead of berating her grandson for the additional mess he'd made, and ignoring the fact that one of her favourite dresses was now smeared with oil, she stared at father and son in disbelief.

"Scott?" she finally whispered.

"He's alive!" Virgil told her, moving to grab her again. This time Grandma slapped his hands away, turning to her son for confirmation.

"It's true. We just received a message from Brains. I haven't had a chance to read it all yet. Give me a minute. Virgil, get Thunderbird Three on-line. I wish we could call John but I suppose he needs to maintain his cover."

"Parker?" Virgil asked.

"Yes, he needs to know too."

A few minutes later, with everyone on screen and desperate to find out exactly what was going on, Jeff began to read Brains' message aloud. He had to pause every so often to allow his listeners to express their feelings, especially when it came to the part about Scott's beating. He needed a moment himself at that point, silently promising his son he'd get his revenge.

"Come on," he said after a few moments. "Brains says Scott will be okay. Let's see what else he's got to tell us."

Gordon couldn't help a short but vicious rant at the news that Thunderbird Four had been torn apart, but he had to admit that he'd rather a brother in one piece than a submarine. At least they'd found her and soon they'd reclaim her.

"That's it," Jeff said finally, reading out Brains' last sentence in which he asked them to hurry with the rescue whilst assuring them that he, Scott and Penny would be safe as long as there was still work to do on recreating Four.

"Now what?" Grandma asked.

"We get out there!" Alan told her. "We'll be coming in to land in about fifteen minutes. Virg, get the gear ready, we can be on our way in half an hour."

Everyone looked at Jeff.

"Get ready," he told them. "But we do nothing until I've spoken to MI5. International Rescue has no power of arrest, remember. If you want these people to pay for what they've done, they've got to be handled properly.

"Besides, you heard what Brains said. They're heavily guarded and we already know the damage Sir Reuben's people are willing to do to anyone who gets in their way. I want a fully armed unit to go in with you, and that can only happen if MI5 take the lead."

"But what if they've found out what Brains did?" Gordon asked. "I know what he said, but things could have changed."

"Gordon's right," Virgil said. "We shouldn't wait around. Scott and the others might be in trouble right now."

"In which case you'd be too late to help them anyway," Jeff pointed out, though the idea clearly disturbed him. "Look, if they're onto Brains then they'll be prepared for a raid, so the three of you would be overwhelmed as soon as you arrived. Plus, if you turn up in a Thunderbird, that's our secrecy out the window. We can't go rushing in, boys. Our best hope is that Brains is right and they can hold on long enough for us to get this done properly. Do I have your agreement to call MI5?"

It was given - grudgingly in some cases, but as always Jeff's logic prevailed.

"I'd like to know what John thinks," Virgil said.

"Me too," Gordon agreed.

"Mr Tracy, Sir?" It was Parker who spoke. "H'I'd like to go h'along."

"Of course," Jeff smiled. "We could do with your expertise. Go to the airport and meet up with John. He'll be landing in an hour or so. You can tell him what's happened and he can bring you over in the jet. I imagine it will take a few hours to put everything in place, so I'm sure you'll have time to join us."

"F H'A B!" Parker was gone. Thunderbird Three signed off too.

"Right, Virgil," Jeff said. "You'll need-"

"Not so fast, Jeff," his mother said. "You said yourself it's going to take a while. Virgil's got a little job to do here first."

"What?" Virgil looked around, suddenly aware of the footprints on the carpet and his grandmother's steely gaze.

"The scrubbing brush and bucket are in the kitchen," she told him.

"But..." Virgil looked appealingly at his father. Surely they didn't have time for housework? But his father wasn't helping him out this time. Years of experience had taught him never to go against his mother on occasions like this.

"Do as your grandmother says, son," he told him, before muttering quietly so that only Virgil would hear, "Just get it over with. You know as well as I do there's no point in arguing."

Virgil wasn't giving in that easily, though. He had one more card left to play. "My shoulder..." he murmured, rubbing the wound and looking plaintively at his grandmother who was having none of it.

"If you're well enough to pick me up then you're well enough to clean up after yourself," she said sternly. "Unless your shoulder is really bad, in which case you should sit out the rescue. Jeff?"

Virgil caved immediately - as she'd known he would. "Okay, okay. You win. There's no way I'm sitting this one out."

Grandma smiled in satisfaction as Virgil trudged off to the kitchen. She looked down at herself and sighed. "This dress is ruined. I'm going to change."

She turned to the door then, in a move which completely surprised her son, darted over to him and hugged him. "Scott's coming home," she said. "I can't believe it."

"He's not safe yet, Mom," Jeff reminded her. "Now then, if I can get to my phone...?"

With a flustered apology Grandma let go of him. Announcing that she was going to make sure Scott and Brains' rooms were ready for their return, she left the lounge, breaking into song as she did so. Jeff made sure she was well out of earshot before picking up the phone. Whoever Virgil had got his perfect pitch from, it certainly wasn't his grandmother. He had to take a moment to compose himself before making the call to the head of MI5 - it seemed like forever since he'd last smiled and his jaw was actually beginning to ache. He couldn't quite believe it, either - his son was alive and in a few hours, a day at the most, he'd be back on the island where he belonged.

* * *

><p>Brains and Penny had both been on edge for the rest of the day, just waiting for some repercussions after the transmission of the message. The first hurdle at least, had been safely cleared - Thomas and the others had accepted that Scott had trashed his room in order to get to see Penny - but now things were likely to get dangerous. Brains went back to work on Four, but he was distracted, waiting for something to happen, hoping it would be a rescue but fearing that somehow Sir Reuben would discover that a message had been sent, especially if Jeff contacted MI5. Brains suspected the man still had friends in the organisation who might pass on information if it came into their hands. The consequences didn't bear thinking about.<p>

Penny sat on her bed worrying more about Scott than any forthcoming rescue. When the door opened to reveal Thomas standing in the doorway, she begged him for some news, pleading with him to let her see that Scott was okay, or at least to go in and check himself. The man just laughed as he pushed Brains inside and slammed the door shut.

"W-What's g-going on?" Brains asked, clearly wondering why his bed was in Penny's room. "W-Where's Scott?"

"Where's Scott?" Penny turned on him, all her fears and frustrations finally finding an outlet. "Lying in that room half-dead, that's where he is, Brains! Why did you make him do it? You must have known what would happen to him."

Brains flushed. He and Scott had discussed the very real possibility that their captors would hurt him again, but Scott had insisted it was worth the risk. Penny's outburst shocked him and for a moment he couldn't say a word. It had been the only way, he knew it had, but he couldn't deny that Penny had a point. He did feel responsible, especially now that he wasn't going to be allowed to see his friend and give him any treatment he needed.

"He could be dead by now!" Penny continued. "They've turned the heating off, Brains; he must be frozen in there. They took everything out of that room, even the lightbulbs. I don't want to think about what they've done to him. It's all your fault!"

To his horror she turned away, clearly in tears. He didn't know what to say. Of all the people who were likely to lose control and vent their feelings like this, Lady Penelope would have been last on the list. He sat down heavily on his bed wishing he'd been able to think of another way to disable the jammers. But he hadn't - and not for want of trying.

There was a long, awkward silence.

"I'm sorry, Brains." Penny finally turned back to face him, her eyes red-rimmed. "That was unforgiveable. It wasn't your fault, I know. It's just... it's the thought of him being hurt with no one to take care of him. I couldn't bear it if anything happened to him."

"I-I know. I-I'm s-sorry. There r-really wasn't a-any other w-way. S-Scott agreed."

"I'm sure he did. He always did like to play the hero." Penny managed a smile. "Brains, how long do you think it will be before help arrives?"

"I-I don't know. N-not l-long, I-I hope."

They sat in silence for a while before Penny stood up and yawned. "Time for bed, I think." Mindful of Brains' sensibilities she just took off her shoes before slipping under the blankets fully clothed. She tactfully turned away from him and drew the blankets over her head, wondering how Scott was coping with the cold.

Brains sat there for a while longer before emulating Penny. Sleep was a long time coming, the discomfort he felt about sharing a bedroom with Penny just adding to the pressure. He wondered what was happening on Tracy Island. Had they even got the message? If they had, when would they get there? He wished now he'd told them to get moving as soon as they received the message. What if Scott couldn't hold out until help arrived? He'd never be able to forgive himself - and he knew that Penny and the Tracys wouldn't either.

* * *

><p>John waited until the Tracy jet was in the air and on autopilot before calling the island to find out what progress had been made. He'd finally got the whole story from Parker and had been able to read Brains' message for himself.<p>

"John, good to see you," his father said. "It must have been torture for you knowing there was a message from Alan's watch and not being able to access it."

"You're right about that," John told him. "But now I'm here, tell me what's going on."

"I've spent the last hour talking to MI5. Parker, you know Penny's contact there?"

"Yes, Sir. 'E knows h'all h'about you lot, too."

"That's right. He's one of the few people who are aware of Penny's work for us. He was delighted to learn she's alive, and to have the chance to apprehend Randolph Pemberton's killer. I understand he's no fan of Sir Reuben, although apparently the man still has some friends in MI5."

"That could make it difficult," John said. "What if someone tells him what's going on? Brains and the others will be finished."

"Yes." Jeff rubbed his temple for a moment. "We've had to come up with a cover story in order to protect them."

"What story?"

"We can't let anyone know what Brains did. So, we've decided that International Rescue should be the ones to inform MI5 about Sir Reuben's activities."

"IR?"

"Yes. All anyone will be told is that we picked up a signal from Thunderbird Four when the jammers failed. Totally untrue, of course, but they're not to know that. Brains says they haven't finished dismantling her, so there might well be transmitters inside that they haven't found yet. They certainly suspect something of the kind, that's why the jammers are there in the first place."

"So even if Sir Reuben does find out MI5 are onto him, no suspicion falls on Brains?" John asked.

"International Rescue traced the signal to Sir Reuben's island. Naturally they wanted to investigate further before rushing in to retrieve their property, so they did a little digging. Monitoring the airwaves for any reference to the man, they picked up a conversation between MI5 operatives. They therefore decided to pass on their information in the hope that if the two organisations pooled resources, Sir Reuben and the others could be brought to justice."

"It sounds plausible," John said slowly. "So what happens now?"

"It's all in hand. MI5 need to get authorisation from the government, though. Sir Reuben's island isn't in British territory so it's all a little complicated. That's why it's taking so long to organise. Plus, of course, it's top secret. No one who isn't completely trustworthy can be allowed to know what's going on. The papers are being prepared now, then it's just a matter of getting some Minister's signature. The raiding party should be able to leave at dawn tomorrow."

"But what h'if Sir Reuben suspects?" Parker didn't look entirely convinced.

"MI5 are making it known that they no longer believe Sir Reuben had anything to do with Randolph Pemberton's death, or that he had any part in what supposedly happened to Scott and the others. They're making a big fuss about finding Freddy McAllister. So long as Sir Reuben thinks his diversion is working, there shouldn't be a problem."

"Are we going in with MI5?" John asked.

"Yes. The boys are getting the equipment ready now. By the time you two get back they'll be set. You'll get the chance for a meal and a few hours sleep before you leave. It'll be a quick turnaround for the two of you, but I'm sure you won't mind."

"Not me," Parker said. "H'I'd be 'appy to get going right h'away."

"Me too," John said.

Jeff smiled then began to thrash out the details of the raid with the pair of them.

Sure enough, when John and Parker landed, everything was ready. Virgil and Gordon had all the equipment they'd need stored in Two, and Grandma had laid out dark clothing on everyone's beds. They were going in as International Rescue, but they didn't want to draw too much attention to themselves. The more anonymous they looked, the better.

"Remember, you're just there to retrieve your property," Jeff reminded Alan and Virgil as they sat in the lounge, John having gone to get some sleep. "But if you should happen to encounter a few hostages along the way, you might want to help them out."

"Seen the news?" Gordon asked, wandering in.

"What news?" Jeff asked.

"Parker's tuned into the BBC. MI5 have issued a warrant for Freddy McAllister for the murder of the old MI5 chief. Sir Reuben's put out a statement appealing for him to give himself up."

"That's good. If he thinks MI5 are going after Freddy then hopefully he won't be expecting them to turn up on his island."

"I hope so, too," Virgil said. "I'd love to know what he's really saying about it all. I wonder if John's bug picked anything up."

"He said it's all been quiet," Alan told him. "He thinks Sir Reuben knows MI5 bugged his office and he's steering clear unless he's got something he wants them to hear."

"Could be," Jeff said. "He's devious enough, that's for sure."

"I'm going to get some sleep," Gordon said. "What time do we leave?"

"In five hours," Alan said. "A quick hop over to London, rendezvous with MI5 then over to Sir Reuben. An hour or so after that, we're back to the 'birds ready to bring Scott, Brains and Penny home."

"I wish you wouldn't do that," Virgil said.

"What?"

"Make it sound as if it's going to be so easy."

"Well, our luck's got to change eventually, hasn't it? Come on, Virg. Yesterday we thought Scott was dead, today we find out he's alive. It's going to be okay."

Jeff was the least superstitious of men, but even he wished his son would keep his mouth shut. "Let's get everyone home first, shall we? Last time we went up against Sir Reuben's people you got beaten up and Virgil was shot. I'm not going to count my chickens here, son."

"Fair enough," Alan said. "But you'll see, it's going to be fine. I can feel it."

The phone rang.

Jeff glanced at the number. Watching him, his sons immediately saw that something was wrong. He'd gone suddenly pale and his eyes had widened in shock.

"Dad?" Virgil felt a chill along his spine. "Who is it?"

Jeff didn't reply for a moment, still staring at the phone. Then he looked up at his sons. There was no mistaking the look of fear in his eyes.

"Sir Reuben."


	31. Chapter 31

_Just a short one... Bit of a teaser in this chapter - but it will all make sense in the next one! _

Chapter Thirty-One

Freddy McAllister couldn't believe that everything had gone so completely wrong in such a short space of time. Just a day earlier he'd been so pleased with himself, looking forward to his trip to London, confident that his new-found friends were working hard to get everything ready for the launch of their new company. Now, he found himself not just in trouble with his uncle - which was hardly unusual - but in genuine fear for his life. Freddy didn't have that high an opinion of his own intelligence, though he believed he possessed a lot more of it than his uncle gave him credit for, but he knew he wasn't overreacting when he thought about the possible outcomes of his current situation. Either his uncle was going to keep him prisoner on the island for the rest of his life, or he'd wait for the opportune moment then sacrifice him in order to save himself. Freddy didn't like either option - he couldn't even say the first was preferable, not when it would leave him at the mercy of his uncle for who knew how many years.

After briefly being incarcerated down in the lower levels whilst the team from MI5 paid their visit, Freddy had been allowed to return to his beach house. Not alone, however, Eric Younger having accompanied him there, only to leave him under the watchful eye of another one of Sir Reuben's security men. It hadn't taken Freddy long to discover that his phone had been taken, along with his computer. The satellite phone had been disconnected too. He had no means of communicating with the outside world.

A desperate attempt to bribe his guard had been met with laughter - the man told him that his uncle had suspected he'd try such a thing and had told him to inform Freddy that his bank accounts had been cleared. Not only would this add to the impression that he intended to flee from justice and change his identity, but it also took away any remaining hope Freddy had that he would be able to find a way out.

"I want to talk to Sahara," he said, heading over to the fridge and grabbing himself a beer.

"She's busy," his guard said, taking a seat and watching his charge.

Freddy knocked back the drink then decided on a walk along the beach. It didn't surprise him that he was only permitted to go a certain distance from his house, the guard simply taking his arm and steering him back in the direction from which he'd come when he judged Freddy had gone far enough.

Freddy finally gave up, getting himself another beer and sitting out on the beach gazing out to sea, wondering who would rescue him from this nightmare. He didn't hear soft footsteps approaching and it was a surprise when Sahara sat down next to him.

"How are you?" she asked.

"Fine - for a condemned man."

"What are you talking about, Freddy?"

He turned to face her. "Uncle Reuben's going to blame me for all this, isn't he? He needs a scapegoat, someone to take the heat off him. That's me, right?"

"It won't come to that," Sahara told him. "You're right, he's keeping his options open, but I won't let him do anything to hurt you, Freddy."

"There was a time I'd have believed that," he said. "But not any more."

Sahara said nothing. She couldn't blame him for reacting this way, but she really did mean it. She wouldn't let Sir Reuben hurt Freddy - not if she had any choice in the matter, at least.

Changing the subject, she told Freddy about Scott's escapades.

"What did you do to him?" Freddy asked.

"I didn't do anything," she told him. "Thomas did. Scott won't be trying anything like that again."

"How bad is it?"

Sahara shrugged. "Bad enough. Thomas is good at what he does."

"I know. Will he be the one to kill me?"

"Freddy! Don't think like that."

Freddy got to his feet. "I need another drink."

He walked into his house, slamming the door behind him. Sahara debated whether to follow him then decided against it. Instead she made her way back to the main house. As she walked away she was aware of Freddy watching her through the window and she felt a pang of guilt at the expression of misery on his face. She'd never seen him look like this before - Freddy was the most cheerful, optimistic soul she'd ever met. She swore she'd protect him, then wondered if she'd really be able to do so if Sir Reuben threatened her. Not for the first time she wished she'd refused to get involved in the murder of Randolph Pemberton.

"Been for a walk?"

Sahara stared at Eric Younger in shock, taking a moment to recover herself. "Eric! You scared me to death. What are you doing down here?"

"Looking for you. Sir Reuben wants a conference."

"About Freddy?"

"Yeah. MI5 took the bait."

"Oh."

"Freddy's the number one suspect for Randolph's murder. The only question now is whether we give him up or -"

"You mean kill him and leave the body for MI5 to discover?"

"Well... yes. But nothing's decided yet. Sir Reuben might hang onto him. It might be a good idea to divert MI5's attention for a while. If they're chasing after Freddy they won't be worrying about us. Get that brain of yours working, girl. If you can come up with a workable strategy you can keep Freddy alive."

Sahara smiled. "Thanks, Eric. I intend to."

The pair walked back to the house, Sahara already planning where the first 'sighting' of Freddy should be.

Back at the beach house, Freddy continued to fret. He hadn't been remotely convinced by Sahara's assurances. She'd already made it clear that her own safety was paramount. He considered having yet another drink then decided against it. If he was to come up with any kind of plan to save himself he'd need a clear head. He wondered how Scott was doing. He knew how brutal Thomas could be and Scott had already been injured. A pity - he'd have been a useful ally, if he'd been able to get in contact with him. There was still Lola, of course - Freddy still couldn't bring himself to think of her as Lady Penelope - but again, there was the problem of arranging a meeting. Maybe he'd ask Sahara later. She might be persuaded to allow the prisoners the chance to share tales of woe.

A knock at the door startled him. His guard got up and went to answer it.

"Everything okay?"

"No problems. He's all yours. I'll be back in eight hours."

"See you later."

The first guard left and his replacement shut the door behind him. Scott would have recognised the man immediately - he'd been one of the team who had interrogated him, the one who'd punched the hardest.

Freddy looked at his new guard for a long moment then broke into a smile. "Hello, Ash."

"Freddy, what have you got yourself into this time?"

Freddy explained. "But what are you doing here?"

"Your uncle brought in reinforcements. I can see why now."

"Sahara didn't assign you your duties did she?"

"No. Some guy called Younger."

"First bit of luck I've had all day. So, what do you think the chances of you breaking me out are?"

Ash looked doubtful. "Younger's put guards on the helipad and down by the boats. I can't see any way of getting you out of here. Even if I could, there's a warrant out for your arrest - you're the chief suspect in a murder case, you know."

"They really did it, then..."

"Yeah. You can't just run away from this, Freddy. I can't see any way out."

"You owe me, Ash."

"I know. And I'll do all I can to help. But I can't work miracles. Don't you have any ideas?"

Freddy considered for a moment.

"One..."

A few hours later, under cover of darkness, Freddy and Ash made their way to the main house.

"You're sure about this?" Ash asked as they reached Sir Reuben's office.

"I'm sure. Keep watch here. I won't be long." With that, Freddy let himself into the office and switched on the light, looking around him as he remembered the last time he'd been here and the way his uncle had humiliated him. Time to fight back, he thought, as he crossed to the desk and sat down.

He'd considered calling MI5, but, knowing his uncle still had friends there, had finally decided it was too risky. There was only one person who could help. All he had to do was find the number...

It took him less than a minute to trawl through his uncle's list of contacts until he came to the one he needed. As he waited for an answer he wondered what the reaction of the man on the other end of the line would be. Then the call connected and Freddy took a deep breath, knowing his life - and those of the other captives - would depend on what happened next.

"Jeff Tracy?"

_Who is this? _Freddy could hear the surprise in the man's voice. He'd clearly been expecting Sir Reuben.

"This is Frederick McAllister."

There was a pause. Then: _ What do you want?_

"Mr Tracy, don't believe everything you've heard about me. I didn't kill Randolph Pemberton. My uncle's agents did."

_Why are you telling me this? Why not go to the authorities? See if they believe you._

"Because my uncle has too many friends in MI5. He's behind all this. He wants to put the blame on me then have me killed. I need your help."

_Why? I suppose you're going to tell me you had nothing to do with my son's death either?_

"Scott's not dead. He's here on my uncle's island."

Another pause, much longer this time.

"Mr Tracy, are you still there?"

_I don't believe you. What kind of cruel joke is this?_

"It's not a joke. Lola - Lady Penelope - and Brains are here too. Scott's hurt, though - badly. They beat him up again this afternoon. I don't know how long he's going to be able to last."

There was another lengthy pause.

_You're lying._

"Mr Tracy, you have to believe me. Why would I lie?"

_To save yourself. Goodbye, Mr McAllister._

Freddy couldn't believe it. "No, wait! Mr Tracy, I'm telling the truth."

_I'm hanging up now._

"No! Listen, you have to believe me." Freddy cast around for anything that might convince Jeff Tracy that he was on the level.

"International Rescue! Call them. Tell them Thunderbird Four is here. Please. You have to help me. They're going to kill me. I don't know how long I've got. Please, Mr Tracy..."

Then all he could hear was the dial tone.

Freddy stared at the phone, unable to accept that Jeff Tracy hadn't believed him. Why hadn't he jumped at the possibility that his son was alive? Had his uncle's story really been so watertight? Replacing the handset he sat back, his hands shaking. It had been his only chance and it hadn't worked. Now what was he going to do?

He opened the drawer of his uncle's desk and began to trawl through it, not sure what he was looking for but hoping he'd find something which might be useful. He spotted the remote control for the entrance to the lower levels and wished it was a real gun. Then maybe he'd stand more of a chance.

A tap at the door startled him and he leapt up and away from the desk. The door opened and Ash came in.

"Someone's coming."

The two men ran to the window. Freddy pushed Ash through first and the man ran off back to the beach house. But before he could follow him the door opened again. Thomas crossed the room and grabbed him before he could get out of the window, pulling him back roughly.

"Mr McAllister. How did you get in here?"

Freddy held his breath for a moment, remembering what had happened to Scott when he'd upset his captors. Before he could say anything, someone else came through the door. Freddy didn't have to look around to know who it was - the wheezy breathing gave his uncle away instantly.

"Freddy..."

Freddy had never heard the man sound so kindly. What was he playing at? The murderous expression on his face was completely at odds with the gentleness of his tone, especially when his eyes fell on the open drawer of his desk.

"I'm glad you've come home, boy. But how did you get here? You're a wanted man, there are people looking for you everywhere. Why did you do it?"

"_What?_ Uncle Reuben, I-"

Freddy stopped dead as Thomas produced a gun and pointed it directly at his throat, placing a finger to his lips with his other hand.

"Come on, Freddy," Sir Reuben said. "Let's get you a coffee, then we can work out what to do with you."

Freddy looked at his uncle, then back at the gun, before giving in and allowing Thomas to escort him out of the room.

"I'm going to have to turn you in," Sir Reuben said as the pair left. "I'm sorry, Freddy, I really am." He wasn't a religious man by any means, but he prayed they'd arrived in time, that MI5 had fallen for his pretence and that Freddy hadn't ruined everything for him.

He was about to follow the others out when something caught his eye. Going back to his desk he stared at the phone. The handset was the wrong way round. It was something that always wound him up whenever the left-handed Freddy used the phone. Sitting down, Sir Reuben checked the last number which had been dialled, praying it was that of a customer he'd called earlier that day. It wasn't, and Sir Reuben sat back, knowing that his attempt to convince the listeners at MI5 of his own innocence had been well and truly useless.

Now he really did have a problem.


	32. Chapter 32

_Thanks to everyone who reviewed the last chapter, especially Whirlgirl (thanks for the 'Rebel, Rebel' review too!) and Rachel, who I can't reply to personally. A big thank you to Loopstagirl too for looking over this for me. _

Chapter Thirty-Two

Jeff's first instinct had been to ignore Sir Reuben's call. With a raid on the man's base so close, he was scared to do anything which might jeopardise the operation. But what if there was some useful information to be gleaned from another conversation with his enemy? In the end, taking a couple of extra-deep breaths, he reached out for the telephone, making sure the video screen was turned off. He didn't want his face betraying anything out of the ordinary. An allowable gesture under the circumstances, he thought. It was only natural that the grieving father might want to retain a little dignity.

_Jeff Tracy?_

Jeff gave a surprised start. This wasn't Sir Reuben, it was the voice of a younger man. Even as he instinctively asked, "Who is this?" he could hear both Virgil and Alan whisper a name: Freddy McAllister. Well they should know, he thought - one had been held prisoner by him, whilst the other had managed to capture the man, only to be shot for his trouble.

Waving a hand at his sons to keep them quiet, Jeff asked Freddy what he wanted, his mind racing furiously as he tried to predict the answer.

_I didn't kill Randolph Pemberton..._

Jeff already knew that. He also knew, courtesy of Brains, that Freddy had fallen foul of his uncle and had been held under guard whilst MI5 were on the island. Sir Reuben clearly didn't trust his nephew after he'd been taken in by Scott and Penny. But that didn't explain why Freddy was calling him now.

There were only two possibilities, Jeff thought. Either Freddy was trying to save himself - and Jeff couldn't blame him given the fact that his face was on every news channel in connection with the murder - or he was acting under his uncle's direction, trying to divert attention away from Sir Reuben and his team. There was a tinge of fear in the man's voice that inclined Jeff to the former, though given what the man had done to his sons, he couldn't help feeling he'd got exactly what he deserved.

He knew from John, who'd hacked into the feed, that the bug MI5 had placed in Sir Reuben's office was still active, Sir Reuben doing his best to establish Freddy's guilt and his own innocence through a series of obviously staged conversations. It hadn't mattered, though, not once they'd got Brains' message. The people at MI5 who needed to know - the ones who could be trusted with the truth - were disregarding any such misdirection. No one who had any connection to Sir Reuben or the girl who worked for him had any inkling that a raid was currently being planned. But if someone who couldn't be trusted overheard this and told Sir Reuben he'd been exposed...

Even as Freddy expressed the same sentiment, Jeff knew what he had to do. He couldn't allow Sir Reuben to think his plan to frame Freddy had failed. He had to make Freddy - and any listeners at MI5 who might pass a message back to his adversary - believe that he wasn't taking any of this seriously. After all, why would he believe the man who had apparently had his son killed?

He'd have to ask about that of course - not to do so would just look suspicious.

_Scott's not dead..._

Despite being fully aware of this, Jeff still swallowed hard, so relieved to have confirmation of Brains' report - which, after all, had come in several hours earlier, and who knew what had happened since then - that he needed a moment to recover. Reaching out to mute the phone, he looked up at his sons, knowing their expressions of relief were mirroring his own. He wished he had time to explain properly what he was going to do, but he couldn't keep Freddy waiting.

"I don't believe you. What kind of cruel joke is this?" He ignored the confused mutterings of his sons, focusing on Freddy's response. His first comment, that Penny and Brains were okay, just added to Jeff's sense of relief. But then Freddy spoke again.

_Scott's hurt, though - badly. They beat him up again this afternoon. I don't know how long he's going to be able to last..._

With a hand that had started to shake, Jeff slammed the mute button down again - just in time, as his sons let loose with their shock and anger. He felt the same. He'd had to bite his tongue to stop himself asking for more information. Only the need to keep to the original plan stopped him from doing so, though he'd be straight on the phone to his contact at MI5 demanding that everything be moved forward once he'd finished with Freddy, that was for sure.

"Boys! Be quiet!"

He looked around the room. Gordon and Alan still stood in front of his desk, both red-faced and shaking. Virgil, however, had got halfway to Two's chute before clearly deciding he'd get there faster in One, changing course to take up Scott's usual position at the wall.

"Virgil, wait. We need to work out what we're going to do."

"We have to get to Scott! Gordon, Alan, come on. Dad, call John and Parker."

"Virgil! Calm down. Of course we're going to help Scott, but we have to deal with McAllister first. Give me two minutes, okay?"

Virgil hesitated a moment before stepping away from the wall. "Okay."

"Get John and Parker," Jeff instructed, as he prepared to talk to Freddy again.

Whatever response Freddy had expected from Jeff, it was clear he'd never even considered that the man would refuse to accept his version of events. The listening Tracys could tell he was beginning to panic, realising that any hope of salvation he might have had was rapidly disappearing. Jeff told him he was ending the call, desperate to get help to his eldest son, but before he could do so Freddy played his last card.

_International Rescue! Call them. Tell them Thunderbird Four is here. _

No! Jeff thought, as lights began to flash on the console in front of him. The last thing he needed was for Sir Reuben to discover that IR had been alerted. Now, if he found out about Freddy's call he'd know the game was up. He'd surely be aware that the organisation would be monitoring all forms of communication in the search for their stolen submarine. Now all his attempts to throw the authorities off the scent would be in vain. Even as Freddy began to beg, clearly in real fear for his life, Jeff ended the call.

"What are we going to do?" Alan asked. "What he said about Scott, Dad... What if we're too late?"

Jeff closed his eyes for a moment, trying not to think about that.

"Okay, here's the plan. We still need MI5 to back us up. Nothing's changed there. If we want Sir Reuben and the others arrested we need to follow the proper protocol. But we're not going to leave Scott there a moment longer than we have to. I want you to set off now. I'll call MI5 and see if they can bring the raid forward.

"Virgil, prepare Thunderbird Two for launch."

_"Two?"_

Even Virgil joined in the protests at this! Speed was surely of the essence here.

"One won't carry all of you, let alone all the equipment you're going to need. You're going to need the medical facilities on Two as well." Jeff swallowed hard as he added the last comment. He couldn't look at Virgil at that moment, knowing how badly his middle son was going to be taking this. Alan and Gordon's panicked faces were painful enough to witness.

John came running into the lounge at this point, closely followed by Parker. The blond Tracy held a small device in his hand, an earphone already in place. Jeff didn't know if he was listening in via MI5's bug or his own, not that it really mattered.

"Anything else?" he asked.

"Not yet. I don't think-" John broke off, eyes widening as he flicked a switch so that everyone could hear what was happening in Sir Reuben's office. Freddy had been captured.

"Do you think Sir Reuben will find out about the phone call?" Gordon asked.

"Depends who heard at MI5," Jeff said. "Or what Freddy tells them. Keep monitoring the transmissions, John. Let me know if you hear anything."

"FAB."

"Okay, prepare for launch. Bring Scott home, boys."

"Milady h'and Brains, too," Parker said.

"Of course."

"Let's go," Virgil said, disappearing down the chute to Two as the others headed for the passenger elevator.

Jeff busied himself with the preparations for the launch. Only when Thunderbird Two had lifted off did he allow himself to sit back and think about Scott for a brief moment before reaching for the phone once again.

On Thunderbird Two there was a tense silence. Virgil flew, pushing Two to her limits, not even registering the fact that this was the first time he'd been at the controls of his 'bird since he'd been shot.

Jeff's face appeared on the vid-screen. "Okay, boys, this is the plan. I've been in touch with my contact at MI5. They're bringing the raid forward. You need to head to the co-ordinates I'm sending you and wait for the raiding party to arrive. You'll head for the island together. They'll handle Sir Reuben's people; you focus on finding Four and the hostages."

"Why do we have to wait?" Alan asked. "What if Scott can't last that long?"

"We're only talking half an hour or so, Alan. I understand your frustration but I want _all_ of you back safely," Jeff insisted. "You need to wait for back-up. Remember what happened last time you faced these people. Sir Reuben has all sorts of weaponry at his disposal, in addition to his security force. And don't forget, Brains told us that they carry out experiments in chemical warfare, too. This place is dangerous. You can't just go rushing in."

"We're going in the same way?" Virgil asked. The numerous scans he'd made of the island when he'd tried to find his missing brother had come in useful when his father and MI5 were planning the operation, revealing the cave which would lead them to the underground lagoon where Four had been taken. Brains had told them that he and the others were being held in the same area.

"Yes," his father told him. "The plan is the same, it's only the timing which has changed."

"One thing we need to decide," John said slowly. "Who's going?"

"All of us, of course," Gordon said. His brothers and Parker added their agreement.

"So who flies Two? We can't land her, there's nowhere big enough on that island. Someone's going to have to winch us down then wait around for us to bring out the others."

There was silence for a moment. Everyone looked at Virgil.

"No!" he said. "I know Two's my 'bird but I can't stay here. Not this time. It's _Scott_, guys... I have to go."

"Is your shoulder up to it?" John asked. "Seriously, Virg, no heroics. You need to be fit for this. For Scott's sake if not your own."

"My shoulder's fine. I'm going."

"Gordon's the co-pilot..." Alan said.

"He needs to see what's going on with Four," John said, earning a grateful glance from his red-haired brother. "I could fly Two, I suppose. It's not as if it's a complicated mission, just a drop-off and retrieval. But I was hoping to hack into Sir Reuben's computer system. I'd like to know more about what they're up to and who put the order in for a copy of Four."

"I'll do it," Alan said, though his reluctance to miss out on the rescue was obvious. "Just keep me posted on what's happening down there, okay? I'm not sure I'll be able to stand the wait otherwise."

"Thanks, Al," Virgil said. "Base, is that okay with you?"

"That seems like the best solution. Thank you, son. I know you're worried about Scott, too."

"Just let me know as soon as you find him. Whatever state he's in."

"He'll be fine," Gordon said. "You know Scott, he's always-"

"Quiet!" John called. "Sir Reuben's back in his office. Something's happening."

* * *

><p>Sir Reuben watched as his communications expert removed the MI5 bug, dropping it into a container and shutting the lid.<p>

"All done," she said - and if she wondered why her employer had had her dragged out of bed at two in the morning to neutralise a device which, just a few hours ago, he'd insisted he wanted left alone, she said nothing, just yawning as she waited for further instructions.

"Go back to bed," Sir Reuben said. "Keep that thing safe - I might need it again, though depending on what my nephew's got to say for himself..."

He didn't bother replying as the woman wished him goodnight and left the room. Instead, he stared at the telephone. Fifteen minutes since Freddy had made his call... Sir Reuben really needed to know what Tracy had been told and, most importantly, what he had agreed to do about it. He'd spoken to his contact at MI5 who'd promised to try to find out what was going on. Looking up at his clock, he wondered how long he'd have to wait.

Sahara came in, Eric Younger by her side.

"We found the guard at Freddy's house," she said. "Looks like he's been drugged. We found a bottle of knock-out pills in the kitchen."

What she didn't say was that Ash was clearly only just going under. She'd recognised him immediately and guessed that he'd had some hand in helping Freddy. She'd kept quiet though - the guard would be out for a couple of hours and he wasn't important, anyway. It was Freddy who needed her help now. Why couldn't he have trusted her to look after him? Now he'd ruined everything.

"Where is he?" she asked.

"Thomas is with him. I was just about to get them in here."

"You're going to beat a confession out of him?"

"Easiest way," Younger commented.

"I think I owe my nephew something in return for all the trouble he's caused," Sir Reuben commented. "Eric, go and get them."

As Younger left the room, Sahara came to stand in front of Sir Reuben.

"It might be the most satisfying method as far as you're concerned, but it's really not the best way."

"No? It worked for Tracy didn't it?"

"But look how long it took. We don't know how much time we've got."

"Freddy won't keep quiet for long."

"He's not as weak as you think he is," Sahara told him. "And if he thinks he's going to be rescued soon he might be able to hold out. Even if he talks you're still going to have to check his story. All that's going to take time."

Sir Reuben couldn't help admitting the truth of her words, even though the prospect of watching his nephew being beaten into submission had been an appealing one. "What do you suggest?"

"Get some of Walker's truth serum. You know it's worked well in testing."

Sir Reuben considered this for a moment. "If it doesn't work then I'm setting Thomas loose."

"It will," Sahara told him. At least, she hoped it would. Saving Freddy from Thomas was one thing, but she also wanted to save herself. The sooner they knew what Freddy had done, the sooner they could do something about it.

Five minutes later Freddy was sitting in a chair in front of Sir Reuben's desk, Younger and Thomas flanking him. Sahara approached him with a syringe.

"Truth serum?" he asked.

"It's either that or Thomas," she said.

Freddy managed a smile. "I have a choice?"

"Sorry," Sahara said as she pushed the needle into his arm. "It's the best way, Freddy."

"How long does it take to work?" Younger asked.

"A couple of minutes."

The seconds ticked by and Freddy's eyes gradually glazed over.

"Freddy?"

"Yeah?"

Sahara asked a couple of general questions, taking the opportunity to satisfy her curiosity about Freddy's 'lost weekend' in Moscow some six months previously.

"Enough of that!" Sir Reuben cut in. "The stuff's obviously working. Freddy, what did you say to Tracy?"

Freddy gave his account of the conversation. The listeners began to relax a little as the man's anguish over Jeff Tracy's refusal to believe a word of his story became apparent.

"So then I told him about Thunderbird Four. Told him to call International Rescue."

"You did what?" Sir Reuben jumped to his feet, wishing he hadn't as his heart began to pound under the strain of moving such a large body so quickly. He sank back into his chair.

"He cut me off," Freddy told him. "He didn't believe me."

"It doesn't matter whether he believed you or not," Younger said. "You know what they say about those guys - they can pick up a call for help from anywhere as long as International Rescue is mentioned by name."

"And they'll be listening for any mention of Thunderbird Four," Sahara added. "Forget MI5, we're going to be getting a visit from International Rescue."

Sir Reuben closed his eyes for a moment. Dealing in illegal armaments, he'd always known that one day his crimes might be discovered. Randolph Pemberton had been about to expose him, but he'd been dealt with easily enough. There wasn't a simple solution this time. Sahara was right. Even if Tracy hadn't informed MI5 - who would know anyway thanks to their bug - International Rescue would be on their way. Fortunately he was a man who always had a back-up plan, even for something like this.

"What do we do?" Sahara asked.

"Pull out all the information you collected on them," Sir Reuben said. "I want to know response times. Whatever the nearest disaster to here was, find out how long it took them to get there. That will give us some idea of how long we've got.

"Thomas, put Freddy down with Tracy then get back up here. Eric, put the evacuation process in place."

"What do I tell everyone?"

"Say one of Marcus's experiments has gone awry. We're getting everyone off the island just in case the gas escapes. Have Sonja make a copy of everyone's hard drives before she leaves."

"What about us?" Sahara asked.

"I've made some contingency plans - I have a few friends who'll be willing to take us in, so long as we've got some useful information to barter with. Tell Marcus to pull all the data on Thunderbird Four."

Sahara left the room as Thomas dragged Freddy to his feet and steered him over to the elevator. Eric Younger rose to leave, but Sir Reuben waved at him to sit down as his phone rang and he glanced across at the number.

"My contact in MI5," he said.

The conversation was short and sharp. Sir Reuben put the phone down and looked across at Younger. "A raiding party is just setting off. We've got about an hour and a half. If International Rescue doesn't get here first, that is."

"It's as we thought then. We're finished here."

"Yes. Completely finished. I'd hate to leave any loose ends, though."

"Freddy?"

"Yes. This is all his fault. I wouldn't put it past him to try to save himself from prison by confessing everything that's ever gone on here. He'll certainly have a good idea as to where I'm hiding. He can't be allowed to pass on that information. Just don't tell Sahara - she's got a soft spot for my nephew and I don't want her causing trouble."

"Okay. What about the other hostages?"

"Hackenbacker could be useful - we'll take him along with us. As for the others, they can die alongside Freddy."

"You want me to shoot them?"

"Why waste good bullets? I want the whole lower complex destroyed. There's to be no trace of our chemical weapons research or of Thunderbird Four. We're in enough trouble as it is. All the computers need to be moved down there too. The last thing we need is for MI5 to get hold of our research and use it for themselves. There are explosives experts amongst the guards?"

"Thatcher and Cole. I'll get them onto it."

"Tell them to move fast. I want everything set up before the raiding party gets here. Let's give them a little surprise when they arrive, shall we?"

He watched as Younger hurried from the room before putting in a call to the warlord who'd ordered his own fleet of modified Thunderbird Fours. He certainly wouldn't have made the call from this phone if the MI5 bug had still been in place.

He had no idea that a second bug was transmitting every word.


	33. Chapter 33

_This one's a bit late - sorry. Nothing worse than having time to write then getting writer's block! Thank you to everyone who reviewed the last chapter, it's really appreciated. Bee_

Chapter Thirty-Three

Everyone on board Thunderbird Two had listened to their enemies' conversation silently, the only indication of their feelings coming from their furious expressions and Virgil's increasingly white-knuckled grip on the yoke. The only sound apart from the voices being transmitted from Sir Reuben's office was the roar of Two's engines as her pilot battled to find even more speed. They'd all tensed when they'd believed Younger was going to shoot Scott and the others, but the relief they'd felt when Sir Reuben had negated that suggestion hadn't lasted long. They had no idea what they were going to do now. Even with Virgil's best efforts they wouldn't get there for another thirty minutes and by then it might be too late - at the first sight of the green craft Sir Reuben would surely give the order for the complex where their brother and Penny were being held to be destroyed.

"What do we do?" Gordon asked once it became clear there was nothing more to be heard. "Dad?"

There was silence for a moment. As the brothers and Parker waited for a response from the leader of IR, they looked around at each other, realising that whatever Jeff said, they were all in complete agreement as to their next step.

"Okay..." Jeff began. "If we wait for MI5 to join us we'll be too late to help Scott. But if you go in alone you're likely to be overpowered within minutes. Or caught in the explosion... It's your call." As if he couldn't guess what they were going to say.

"I'm in."

Everyone echoed Virgil's statement. On the vid-screen Jeff leaned back in his seat, took a deep breath and nodded his agreement.

"We need to rethink our plans," John said. "We can't go in openly. I think we need to be dropped off a mile or so out to sea."

"Swim for h'it?" Parker asked doubtfully. "Won't that take h'us longer?"

"We won't be swimming," Gordon said. "We've packed the inflatables."

"But we'll be seen from the air," Virgil pointed out. "They'll just shoot the boat."

"We don't need a boat," Gordon told him. "Not for getting in anyway. We'll use the propulsion units to get us to the island quickly. Once we're in the lagoon we can inflate the boat ready to get Scott and the others out."

"Sounds like they won't have the time or the personnel to actually guard the cave," John said. "They'll be busy setting the explosives and getting everyone off the island. It's our best chance of sneaking in without being seen."

"Agreed," Jeff said. "You're authorised to use your weapons, but try not to let things degenerate into a shoot-out. Get Scott and the others out, pick up any evidence against Sir Reuben that's nearby - including anything to do with Four - and get out. Leave everything else to MI5."

"What about Brains?"

"Hopefully you'll be in time to stop them taking him. If not, well we know where they're headed. They want him alive so he's safe for the time being. Scott has to be our priority right now. I'll let MI5 know of the latest developments. Maybe they'll have some suggestions." Jeff signed off, preparing for yet another conversation with the British secret service. At least he would be able to give them the name of Sir Reuben's informant.

"Gords, you and Parker get everything into the basket ready for a quick drop-off," Virgil told him. "Al, once we're down, head back the way we came. Stay well out of the way of their aircraft."

"I just hope they don't detect our approach," Alan said. "You're sure a mile will be far enough, John?"

It was Virgil who responded. "It's going to have to be. We're going to be pushing it for time as it is."

Gordon and Parker disappeared and there was silence in the cockpit for a long time, the only occasional break being when Virgil or Alan asked John if there was anything being transmitted from Sir Reuben's office - much to his irritation, since, as he pointed out, he'd have told them immediately if there had been. Twenty minutes later Parker and Gordon came back dressed in wetsuits.

"The gear's ready," Gordon said.

"Did you put a med-kit in?" Virgil asked, unable to help himself despite knowing it was a stupid question. In fairness to Gordon, he didn't point this out.

"Two. Want me to take over while you get suited up, Virg?"

"Not yet. Let me get her a bit closer. John, you get ready."

John slipped from his seat, making sure any transmissions would be played through the speakers before he left the cockpit. But there was nothing. Whatever was happening on Sir Reuben's island, it wasn't taking place in the office.

* * *

><p>Aside from being cold, thirsty and in obscene amounts of pain every time he moved, Scott didn't have much idea of what was going on around him. He remained in the semi-conscious state in which Thomas had left him, lying on the mattress onto which he'd been dropped when it became clear he couldn't take any more punishment. When the door opened, letting light from the corridor flood in for the briefest of moments before being slammed shut again, he barely registered it. Only when he felt someone shaking his shoulder - sending jolts of pain through his whole body as they did so - did he realise someone was in the room with him.<p>

He tried to speak but all that came out was a strangled moan.

"Scott! Wake up!"

"Fr'dy?" The response was a little more coherent this time. He even managed to open the one eye that wasn't swollen shut, but given that the room was almost pitch black, only a small square of light from the glass panel in the door providing any illumination, it didn't help much.

"Yeah, s'me."

Scott wasn't alert enough to wonder why Freddy's voice was slurred.

"I called your father."

"Huh?" This at least got through the fog in Scott's brain. "Dad?"

"Yeah. Told him you were alive. Didn't believe me though. No one ever believes me." He giggled for a moment. "Not unless they've filled me up with truth drugs..."

Scott couldn't even begin to fathom that one. He knew that his father would already have some plan in place, but he wasn't going to tell Freddy that - even if he'd been able to summon up the energy to get the words out.

"You look terrible," Freddy told him.

"'S dark," Scott managed.

"Yeah, but I saw you when they opened the door. Even if someone does come for us you might not be around to see it." He clapped a hand over his mouth and giggled again. "Sorry. Truth serum. Ask me anything, I'll tell you all about it."

At any other time Scott would have welcomed the chance to get some more information. Now he just wished Freddy would shut up. His head pounded, everything hurt, and he just wanted to go to sleep.

"I stole Thunderbird Four!" Freddy announced proudly. "All my idea, whatever my uncle says. I thought of it all."

"Tha's nice," Scott murmured as he drifted back into semi-consciousness.

"I'll tell you all about it!" Oblivious to the fact that his audience was no longer with him, Freddy began to ramble on about how he'd come up with the plan.

He was still talking when, some twenty minutes later, the door opened again. To his bleary-eyed surprise two men he only vaguely recognised as being part of the research team in the North Atlantic came in, followed by Thomas. As one quickly fitted a new light bulb, turning the light on and making Freddy blink furiously, Thomas grabbed his wrists and tied his hands behind his back.

"What are you doing?" Freddy asked. He was even more confused when they did the same to Scott, despite the fact that he was clearly beyond offering any kind of resistance. The man cried out in agony as his arms were pulled behind his back, then there was nothing, not even when he was dropped roughly back onto the mattress. Only the increasingly harsh sound of his breathing indicated that this new position wasn't helping his condition.

"Just making sure you don't cause any trouble," Thomas informed him, watching as one of the other men brought in a ladder. He proceeded to fix a bundle of what appeared to be explosives in each corner of the room.

"You're blowing us up?" Freddy asked, struggling to get to his feet. Off-balance with his hands behind his back, it was easy for Thomas to push him back down onto the floor.

"You can't do this!" Freddy insisted, making another effort to get up as the men left the room. Staggering across to the door which shut in his face as he reached it, he continued to yell at them to come back, to get Sahara, to stop being so stupid and to get him out of there...

There was no response and eventually he slumped to the floor, looking across at Scott - they'd at least left the lights on this time - and envying his companion his unconscious state. At least he wouldn't spend his last moments of life watching the blue light on the detonator, waiting for it to turn first green, showing that the countdown had begun, then red. Although it was unlikely he'd have more than a fraction of a second to register that...

* * *

><p>Across the hallway, Penny had been awoken by Freddy's shouting. Brains hadn't managed to get to sleep in the first place, so anxious was he about Scott and their forthcoming rescue. When their door opened they both sat up, Penny rubbing her eyes in surprise.<p>

They were subjected to the same treatment as Scott and Freddy and they too watched as the room was rigged to explode. They exchanged nervous glances, both wondering if Brains' message to the Tracys had been discovered.

"Freddy's an idiot," Thomas told them in response to Penny's hesitant question. "He's given Sir Reuben away. If it's any consolation, he's being left here too."

It wasn't.

"You're not, though," Thomas said to a horrified Brains as he prepared to leave. "Sir Reuben's taking you with him."

"Now what?" Penny asked once the men had gone. "How long do we have, Brains?"

"I-I d-don't know." Brains didn't want to die, but he didn't want to be taken away by Sir Reuben and forced to work for some unknown power either. He wondered how long it would take IR to mount a rescue, assuring Penny that Jeff and the others would have swung into action the moment they realised what Freddy had done, if they hadn't been on their way already.

"Th-they'll get h-here in t-time," he promised. "Th-they always d-do."

Penny said nothing. Like Freddy, she was staring at the explosives wondering if this would be the one time International Rescue failed to save the day. She wished she'd asked Thomas about Scott, fearing that even if the Tracys did get there before the complex was destroyed, it might be too late to save the one person they cared about the most.

* * *

><p>Thomas escorted Thatcher and Cole out to the area where Thunderbird Four lay in pieces. Professor Franklin was filling a box with some of the smaller bits of kit which he'd removed from the sub. Smiling despite himself at the expressions of admiration and disbelief on the faces of the demolition team, Thomas gave them a moment to take in the scene before reminding them that time was short.<p>

"Sir Reuben wants everything destroyed. The sub, the labs, all of it."

"We're on it," Cole replied. "Let's start with the labs." The pair disappeared, leaving Thomas to watch as Marcus emerged from Thunderbird Four, staggering under the weight of some piece of equipment.

"Don't just stand there! Give me a hand."

Thomas did as he was told, taking the machinery from the engineer.

"Is the evacuation underway?" Marcus asked.

"Yes. They were loading people into the boats when I brought the explosives down." He smiled. "There were a few choice comments about you."

Marcus's face flushed. "Don't know why Sir Reuben had to say it was my fault."

The door to the upper levels opened and Sahara and Eric Younger came in.

"How's it going?" Younger asked.

"I've copied the data and pulled out the equipment we need," Professor Franklin told him.

"Good work. There's a seat in the helicopter for you. You'd better get moving."

"Thank you." He looked around him one last time. "Such a shame our research had to be cut short. Still, it's been quite an experience. I'm sure this won't keep Sir Reuben down for long. If he needs any help in the future..."

"We'll be sure to call on you," Sahara told him.

"Take the professor up to the helipad," Younger told her.

She looked surprised. "Why can't Thomas do it?"

"We need him to carry this stuff out. Unless you want to take it?"

She looked at him searchingly for a moment then turned to Professor Franklin with a smile. "Let's go then."

With a backward glance at Younger as she slowly walked the old man down the corridor, she disappeared.

Thomas moved towards the box of electronics.

"Don't worry about that for now," Younger said. "I just wanted her out of the way. Freddy's sorted?"

"All trussed up and waiting for the end," Thomas told him. "She doesn't know?"

"No. She thinks we're bringing him out before we go. It's not going to be pretty when she realises what's going on, but by then it'll be too late."

Thatcher and Cole returned from the labs, making their way to the remains of Thunderbird Four.

"It's a shame," Thatcher said, running a hand over her hull before climbing inside the craft and getting to work.

Marcus eyed the explosives nervously, watching as Cole began to rig the surrounding area. "I'll be on my way, then, shall I?"

"Not yet," Younger said, reaching out an arm to stop him edging towards the exit. "Sir Reuben wants you here till the end."

"Why?" Marcus asked. "I'm not an explosives expert."

"No, but you know more about this thing than anyone else." He waved a hand in the direction of Four. "You're going with him."

"I am?" Marcus didn't know whether to be pleased or not. The fact that he was apparently indispensible to Sir Reuben sat well with him, but on the other hand, if he was captured he'd find it hard to maintain that he knew nothing of what was going on in the secret labs. He'd hoped to hide out amongst the other employees who he knew were unlikely to face anything more than a few hours' interrogation. After all, they were all just innocent staff members whose work was completely above board - or at least, that's what they would claim. No one would be able to prove otherwise - RMC had any number of legitimate business interests.

"You, me and Sahara," Younger told him. "Oh, and Hackenbacker."

Suddenly Marcus didn't feel quite so indispensible. "Why are we taking him?"

"You know Sir Reuben. He probably thinks he can sell him off to the highest bidder. Shame to waste all that talent, anyway."

"He won't work for anyone else. He only helped us because he wanted to keep his friends alive."

Younger shrugged. "That's his problem - and Sir Reuben's." He looked at his watch. "The evacuation should be over."

"What happens now?"

"We wait for these guys to finish, then we get ourselves out of here." He raised his voice. "How long?"

"Five minutes," Cole called back.

"I'll tell Sir Reuben." Younger turned to Thomas. "You get that box. Marcus, get the rest of your research together. I'll be back to pick up Hackenbacker and take you out to the helicopter."

Marcus watched the two men leave then ran for his lab. He didn't want to be down here a moment longer than he had to.

* * *

><p>A mile away, Alan brought Thunderbird Two to hover close to the surface of the ocean. Virgil had waited till the last minute to relinquish the controls, though the usual lecture any relief pilot had to endure hadn't been forthcoming. Instead the middle brother had simply reminded the youngest to get well out of the way of anything going to or from the island and to be ready to pick them up as soon as he received the call to do so.<p>

"I know," Alan said. "Now get going and bring back Scott."

"FAB."

Virgil left the cockpit and went to change into his wetsuit. Once he was kitted out he joined the others who were waiting in the basket ready to be winched down. Settling the pack Gordon held out to him onto his back, he pulled on his hood, just as the others had done. It was unlikely that anyone would assume they were anything other than IR, but at least their appearances wouldn't be that recognisable.

"In position," Alan called over the radio. "Get ready."

A few moments later the basket stopped just above the waves, a manoeuvre made somewhat more difficult by the fact that they were doing this without lights, not wanting any watchers on the island to spot the huge aircraft. Opening the gate, Gordon was the first to jump out, closely followed by John. Parker and Virgil pushed out the propulsion units and the rest of the equipment which they would drag along behind them, before following the others into the water.

"Ready to go, Al," John said into his watch, and Alan retracted the basket before firing the engines and getting Two safely away.

"Let's go," Gordon said, taking hold of one of the propulsion units. Virgil joined him and, with a glance across at John and Parker to check they too were ready, they started it up and were soon moving silently but quickly towards Sir Reuben's island.

They had one anxious moment when they were halfway there - a helicopter's engines could be heard above them and as one they held their breath, waiting for a searchlight to illuminate them. But there was nothing and the sound faded into the distance. Thankful that their luck seemed to be holding, they continued on their way, adrenaline pumping when in the distance, lights could be seen. They'd reached the island.

John was navigating and he changed course to the east. They lost sight of the lights, relieved that the part of the island they were heading for seemed deserted. Finally they approached the entrance to the underground caves and they shut down the propulsion units, swimming the last hundred yards or so.

Virgil felt his shoulder pull a little and wished he'd taken some pain meds before he'd left Two. Not that it slowed him down. If anything, he speeded up, desperate to get to Scott, knowing that however uncomfortable he felt right now, it was unlikely to be anywhere near as bad as what his brother was going through.

When they reached the cave they swam in single file, Gordon taking the lead. They slowed down, not wanting any sounds of splashing to give them away. At first the only light came from their own flashlights, but gradually they began to realise that the cave was getting brighter. As the tunnel curved to the right, Gordon brought them to a halt.

"Wait here," he whispered, disappearing around the bend. A minute later he was back.

"We're here. I can see Four. What's left of her, anyway."

There was the slightest of cracks in his voice but he didn't betray how devastated he'd been to see his beloved 'bird so ravaged by the people who'd stolen her.

"Guards?" Parker asked.

"I can't see anyone. Everyone ready?"

They all whispered in the affirmative. Leaving the inflatable boat and the propulsion units tethered to a rock, they followed Gordon along the tunnel and out into the lagoon. A minute later they were pulling themselves up onto the dock, drawing their weapons and taking in the scene. A quick check round told them that they were alone.

"She's rigged to blow," John said, staring at Four.

"The whole place is," Virgil said. "Parker, what do you think?"

Parker made his way over to Four. "The countdown 'asn't started. H'of course, that could 'appen h'any time. There's no way of knowing 'ow long they've set h'it for."

"Can you deactivate it?"

Parker shook his head. "H'I'd need the master detonator."

"Okay." John took charge. "Let's get moving. Virg, Parker, find Scott and the others. Gords, look over Four. See what they've taken. I'll get what I can from these. Nice of them to make it easy for me." He indicated the computers which had been brought down from the upper levels ready to be destroyed in the blast. "Remember, keep an eye on any explosives you find. The moment the light changes colour, get back here - even if you haven't found them."

No one was fooled by Virgil and Parker's easy agreement as they set off down the corridor. John and Gordon exchanged glances before shrugging and turning to their own tasks. Both found themselves struggling to concentrate, their eyes constantly drawn to the blue lights on the bundles of explosives.

Neither of them realised someone was watching them.


	34. Chapter 34

_After the writer's block comes the inspiration! I really thought that two more chapters would finish the story off but things got a little more complicated... Three more to go after this one but they're more or less written so the wait shouldn't be too long. Unless I decide to change everything again... These final chapters are dedicated to Loopstagirl for putting up with all my confused ramblings and helping me make some sense of them, even if it was at the expense of her own sanity._

_I'm incredibly grateful to everyone who's reviewed, read, or alerted this story. It really makes it all worthwhile. Whirlgirl, your comments always give me something to think about - sometimes it's a sense of relief that my story is working the way I hoped it would, other times you give me ideas to help move the story forward. I can't thank you enough for taking the time to review. _

_Bee_

Chapter Thirty-Four

Sir Reuben had been standing at the entrance to his villa, watching as Thatcher and Cole took off in one of the attack helicopters which had proved so effective in distracting Thunderbird One the day they'd taken Four. He was hoping for a repeat performance now, holding International Rescue up long enough for him to make his escape. Part of him couldn't believe that the organisation hadn't arrived by now. But then his research had shown that there weren't actually that many of them. That had to be it - they were waiting for reinforcements. He still had some time to spare. But it surely wouldn't be much longer... He couldn't help scanning the skies as he strained to hear the roar of a Thunderbird's engines over the sound of his own helicopter.

He'd have liked to have been on his way by now, but there were still things to do. Marcus hadn't yet appeared with the data Sir Reuben needed as a present for the tyrant who was going to take him in. He could have left the others to it, he supposed, but this was his empire, he'd created the company and this research facility and it was a matter of honour that he should be the last to leave. He would be the one to detonate the explosives, destroying everything he'd created and ensuring his nephew paid the penalty for betraying him.

Freddy was still managing to cause him problems, even though he wasn't actually there. When Sahara had arrived with her suitcase, she'd immediately insisted on knowing what he'd planned for his nephew. Unlike Younger, Sir Reuben didn't bother pretending, informing her that Freddy would be staying behind. Sahara was currently doing everything she could to persuade him to change his mind. Even his usual winning line about her relying on his goodwill for her own freedom wasn't working - not now that she, too, would be wanted by MI5, not to mention the authorities in any other number of countries whose forces had been on the wrong end of RMC's illegal arms deals.

"We don't have time for this," he insisted. "International Rescue are on their way, in case you'd forgotten. We have to get out of here before they arrive."

"We have to get Brains," she pointed out. "Someone's got to go back down to get him so they can get Freddy too. Come on, Sir Reuben, please. You can't do this to him. What would your brother think?"

Sir Reuben shook his head. His brother wouldn't like it, but he would surely have accepted that there was a limit to what a man could take when it came to Freddy. But Sahara refused to listen to reason and the argument continued.

Thomas arrived at that point, closely followed by Younger, both men dragging hastily packed cases.

"What's the problem?" Younger asked. "Shouldn't we be on our way?"

Sir Reuben sighed as Sahara broke into another impassioned plea for Freddy's life. "Okay, okay. If it means we can finally get moving..."

"Thank you. Thomas, come on. We'll take the back entrance; it's closer to the living quarters." She set off at a run, closely followed by the security guard.

"You're really letting him get away with this?" Younger murmured.

"Of course not. But at least it's shut her up. Let's just call it a stay of execution, shall we? You can do the honours later."

Younger smiled. He'd never liked Freddy and he could really do without a rival for Sahara's affections.

* * *

><p>Virgil and Parker had made their way down the corridor which, according to the sign on the wall, led to the living quarters. They'd kicked open each door they'd come across on the way, quickly searching the room for anyone who might be hiding but finding no one. What they had spotted, however, were more bundles of explosives, strategically placed and ready to bring a thousand tonnes of rubble down on top of them.<p>

"This whole place is going up," Virgil murmured as he led Parker along the corridor to the next door. He'd have liked to get in touch with John to warn him of the extent of the danger, but they'd agreed that, since they didn't know what frequency would be used to send the detonation signal, they'd need to maintain radio silence, just in case their transmissions started the countdown. That meant no contact with Alan or Base, either, of course, and he spared a brief, sympathetic thought for his father and brother, who could only wait and wonder what was happening.

They found no RMC guards or anyone belonging to the company. The living area was deserted. Finally they reached a dead end, with just two doors left to open. Exchanging glances, they moved towards them.

"Penny and Brains!" Virgil called out as he looked through the window to see the pair sitting on their beds, hands apparently tied behind their backs. Their heads snapped round as he banged on the window, expressions of despair changing first to relief then delight as they got to their feet and approached the door. Virgil felt just a little of the panic he'd barely been keeping down ebb away - they were in time to save Brains, and if he was still there, then the explosives weren't likely to be detonated just yet, not so long as IR's arrival had indeed gone unobserved. But the main focus of his fear hadn't abated. Where was Scott?

He left Parker to deal with the lock on Penny's door and moved across to the other room. One look inside told him he'd found what he was looking for. His brother was lying with his back to the door and Virgil couldn't tell what kind of state he was in, but the fact that he didn't move when Virgil hammered on the door, told the younger man that things weren't looking good.

He only vaguely registered the fact that Freddy McAllister was also in the room. Shrugging off his backpack he found his laser cutter and got to work on the lock.

"Milady!" Parker shouted, kicking in the door he'd been working on and rushing in to untie Penny and Brains.

A second later Virgil was through too, charging over to his brother. He pulled up sharply as he took in the full extent of Scott's injuries. His face was barely recognisable, blood trickling from his mouth and nose. Even unconscious, his expression reflected the pain he was in.

"Aw, Scott," was all he could say, whispering it so that Freddy McAllister didn't hear him. As far as he was concerned, the new arrival was International Rescue and nothing to do with Scott Tracy, agent of the American military.

Virgil ignored Freddy, aware that Parker and the others had come in and leaving them to handle him. He pulled out his knife and cut his brother's bonds, carefully turning him over and beginning his examination with hands that hadn't shaken so much since the very first time he'd been confronted with a seriously injured rescue victim. Scott had kept him calm on that occasion, talking him through the necessary procedures from Mobile Control, and Virgil felt his brother's absence strongly at that moment, despite the fact that Scott was right there in front of him.

"How is he?"

It was Penny. She was barely keeping back the tears as she knelt on the other side of the mattress.

Virgil gave a quick rundown of the most obvious injuries: broken jaw, cheekbone, nose, ribs... and the probability of internal injuries and concussion. At least his brother's breathing was a little easier now that his arms were free and he wasn't in such an awkward position, but the fact that he hadn't registered Virgil's presence worried the younger brother as much as the bruises and the bleeding.

"We need to get him out of here," he said, pulling an oxygen mask out of the med-kit and looking around for Brains. The man was busy examining one of the bundles of explosives up close so Virgil left him to it for a moment. "Parker, can you go and tell John we've found them?"

Parker left the room only to reappear seconds later. "Someone's coming!"

"They're coming to get Brains," Penny said.

"Quick," Parker said, "Back h'into the h'other room."

He ushered Penny and Brains across the corridor and back to their original room, instructing them to sit on their beds with their hands behind their backs. He had picked the lock with his usual finesse, so there was no indication that there had been a breakout and the door locked when he closed it. Then he returned to Scott's room, pushing that door shut and hoping that the new arrivals didn't notice the hole where the lock should have been. He called Virgil over and, leaving his brother with reluctance and a whispered promise that he'd be right back, the pilot joined him at the door.

A second later Sahara and Thomas appeared, reaching Brains' room and looking in. Apparently satisfied with what he saw, Thomas unlocked the door and took a step inside.

Sahara turned to check on Freddy, only to be faced with Virgil and Parker, who grabbed her, pushed her into the other room and shoved her unceremoniously into a corner. It took the combined might of both men to overpower Thomas, but it wasn't long before the guard lay in a crumpled heap on the floor.

Which just left Sahara. The woman had picked herself up and was attempting to slink away without being noticed. Parker realised what she was up to and took a step towards her, only for a soft voice to stop him in his tracks.

"Leave this to me, Parker," Penny told him, moving towards Sahara. The pair circled each other for a moment, both poised to spring into action. In the end it was Sahara who moved first, apparently believing she had a chance to dodge past Penny in order to make a run for it. Penny was too quick for her, however, pulling her back, spinning her round and delivering a high kick to Sahara's stomach that had the girl doubled over and gasping.

"That's for Scott," Penny told her.

Sahara straightened up, hopes of escape clearly fading. However, she wasn't going down without a fight. She might have underestimated Penny's fighting abilities just now, but she wasn't going to make that mistake again.

It didn't go the way Sahara had hoped. Penny got in a smooth blow to the side of her neck. "For me," she said, before kicking Sahara's legs out from under her. "And for Brains," she finished, glancing back at Parker and Virgil who had been leaning against the wall enjoying the show.

Virgil raised an eyebrow and nodded down at his shoulder. Penny smiled, turned back to Sahara, who was just beginning to pull herself onto her hands and knees, and delivered a knock-out blow to the back of her neck. Sahara collapsed next to Thomas and Penny dusted herself down.

"Does that satisfy you, Virgil?" she asked.

"Oh yes," he grinned, before turning his attention back to his brother and hurrying back across the corridor, calling to Brains to come and help. He suddenly realised they'd forgotten all about Freddy. He could have kicked himself - the man would have made a run for it for sure, and any moment now, more of Sir Reuben's people would arrive to rescue their colleagues.

But to his surprise Freddy was sitting where they'd left him.

"I'm not going anywhere," he announced. "They want to kill me. I've got to be safer with you lot. Anything you want to know, anything I can do, just let me know. And put in a good word for me with the judge..."

In the other room, Penny was taking great satisfaction in tying Thomas and Sahara up with strips of a sheet which Parker had cut up for her. The man himself had pulled his backpack off and was rummaging inside, finally pulling out a flask and a china cup. "Tea, Milady?" he asked.

Penny gave him a look of utter gratitude. "Oh Parker, you are wonderful."

She took her drink back into the other room where Brains and Virgil were working on Scott.

"We've bought ourselves some time," she said. "But it won't be long before someone comes looking for those two."

"Gordon and John need to know what's happened," Virgil said. "Parker, can you tell them?"

"H'on my way."

* * *

><p>Marcus had hidden in a closet the moment he'd heard the International Rescue team arrive. He'd been in one of the labs so had had no chance to run for safety. Now he was stuck, the two remaining IR operatives standing between him and the elevator which would take him to the upper levels. One disappeared into Thunderbird Four and the other began working on the computers which had been brought from the labs on the floor above. Marcus thought he could probably have sneaked across to the corridor which led to the other entrance, but that would take him too near the pair who had gone to find the hostages.<p>

So he stayed where he was, waiting for Eric Younger's return and hoping it would bring him salvation. When one of the wetsuit-clad men reappeared, yelling to the others that they'd found Scott and captured two of Sir Reuben's team, he knew he had to make his move. The instant the two men had run off in the direction of the living quarters, Marcus slipped out of his lab and along to the elevator, relieved to be free but dreading breaking the news to Sir Reuben that some of his people had been captured.

* * *

><p>The wait for his people to return with the hostages was longer than Sir Reuben had expected and the man was beginning to shuffle restlessly. "Where are they?"<p>

"They shouldn't be much longer." Younger tried to sound calm but he too was starting to get nervous, watching the seconds tick by on his watch with an increasing sense of foreboding.

A few more minutes went by with still no sign of anyone returning from the lower levels. Finally Younger voiced what both men were thinking.

"Something's happened."

"I think you're right. How could -" Sir Reuben broke off. "Someone's coming."

They looked down the corridor and saw the door of Sir Reuben's office open. Someone had apparently come up in the elevator. Tensing as he pulled out a gun, Younger watched to see who would appear. He hoped it would be Sahara but he had a horrible feeling it would be Lady Penelope and Hackenbacker - or the forces of MI5 or International Rescue.

The last person he expected to see was Marcus.

"International Rescue are here!" he announced as he scuttled down the corridor, almost knocking Sir Reuben over as he pushed past him. "They've got Sahara and Thomas. Come on, let's get out of here."

He turned back in surprise when Sir Reuben and Younger failed to follow him. "_Come on!_"

"Slight problem, Marcus," Younger said. "None of us are pilots. There's no way off this island except by helicopter - all the boats were used in the evacuation. We need Thomas."

Marcus slumped against a wall. "You mean you're going back down there?"

Younger shook his head. "_I'm _not going back," he told him. "_We _are. I need your help with this. I'll go the back way. You take the elevator."

"I can't do that!" Marcus was truly terrified - he'd seen the weapons the IR men were carrying. He might have been a bully, but he'd always steered clear of anything that might involve physical danger to himself.

"Yes you can!" Sir Reuben told him. "I certainly can't do it. Come on."

"Give me five minutes to get in position then get moving," Younger said, setting off at a run.

Marcus stared pathetically at Sir Reuben.

"You're worse than Freddy," the man said with contempt as he shoved him forward. "At least he'd have a go, even if he'd more than likely make a mess of it."

They reached the office and Sir Reuben checked his watch. "Two more minutes." He moved across to a cabinet, unlocking it and taking out a gun which he loaded then handed to Marcus.

"Try not to shoot your foot off," he told him.

Marcus took it, not sure whether it made him feel better or not.

Sir Reuben took a seat behind his desk, picked up his remote control and pointed it at the elevator. The door slid open.

Marcus, whimpering a little to himself, got in.

"It's time," Sir Reuben said. The door slid shut and the elevator began to descend.


	35. Chapter 35

_Quick update as promised. Nearly there (unless I manage to lose my edits again!)..._

Chapter Thirty-Five

Even if she hadn't been rigged to explode at any moment, Gordon would have hesitated to set foot inside Thunderbird Four. The sight of the gaping hole in the hull was bad enough, but what really got to him was the fact that his pilot's seat – the one he'd spent months breaking in until it moulded itself to the contours of his body, keeping him secure and comfortable as he'd faced any number of perilous situations – had been removed and placed on the side of the dock. A half-empty mug sat on the ground next to it, and the thought of someone sitting down for a quick coffee-break whilst they surveyed their handiwork and considered what further indignities to inflict on the sub, infuriated Gordon. Swearing again that he'd get his revenge, the aquanaut cast another glance at the blue light on the nearest bundle of explosives, then steeled himself to look inside his 'bird.

He refused to climb through the hole which had been cut into her side, stubbornly activating the airlock, even if it did cost him precious seconds.

"Hello, girl," he whispered once he was out of sight and sound of John - though he knew his brother would have understood completely. "I've missed you."

The airlock door slid open and he gazed around the decimated cockpit, suddenly too upset to be angry at the state of her or the fact that she'd been filled with so many explosives that there would only be fragments left when they detonated. Not that it would make a whole lot of difference. There was nothing left of her, she was just an empty shell. Even if she escaped being blown apart, he didn't think he'd ever find all the pieces to put her back together again. Sir Reuben's people had done too good a job.

Forgetting that he was supposed to be hurrying, he stood in the middle of the cockpit mourning his 'bird and remembering some of the adventures the two of them had shared. He closed his eyes and tried to imagine that this nightmare had never happened and he was out in the ocean depths. He could almost do it. Almost...

A cry from the direction of the living quarters startled him and, with a promise to Four that he'd soon be back, he leapt through the hole in her side, hoping he'd heard what he thought he'd heard: that Scott had been found and - equally worthy of celebration - two of Sir Reuben's people had been captured.

Sure enough, Parker really was there, urging them to come and see as he ran over to the bags they'd brought with them, extracting a fold-up stretcher and heading back the way he'd come. Thunderbird Four forgotten for the moment, Gordon followed him, John close behind.

Grandma had always sworn that whenever Gordon entered a room he'd make enough noise to wake the dead. Scott wasn't quite so badly off, but upon his brother's arrival he blinked his one good eye open and managed the faintest of smiles. The reunion was emotional, although Scott could do little more than whisper how glad he was to see them before drifting off again. Gordon wished more than anything that they'd found his brother in better condition, but Brains and Virgil seemed happier now that Scott had come round, assuring him that he wasn't going to die on them just yet, although he'd need some serious attention once they got him back to Thunderbird Two.

Penny and Parker had withdrawn to the other room in order to give the brothers some privacy. They'd taken Freddy along with them and listened in amusement as a still-groggy Sahara tried to convince him that she'd come back to save him. Freddy was having none of it, informing her that he no longer trusted her and that, given their current situation, he'd be doing all he could to help International Rescue and MI5. Penny watched him thoughtfully and, when the Tracy brothers announced that they were ready to move Scott, she ordered Freddy to come along with her, asking Parker to stay and keep an eye on the others - just in case.

Gordon didn't realise what she'd done until he'd set Scott down next to Thunderbird Four.

"What's he doing here?" he asked. He knew Freddy hadn't had anything to do with his brother's injuries, but the man still had to be held to account for his part in stealing his 'bird.

"He's going to help us," Penny told him. "We need him to get us upstairs. The security locks need a palm print." With a warning to Freddy to stay exactly where he was, she moved across to the others for a whispered discussion, not wanting the man to realise that she was well-acquainted with the men from International Rescue.

Her explanation had done nothing to pacify Gordon.

"What do you want to go upstairs for? In case you hadn't noticed, Penny, this place is going to blow at any moment. We've got Scott; we've done everything we came here to do. We've got to get out of here."

"Calm down, Gordon," John said. "Penny, what do you have in mind?"

"I'd like to try to capture Sir Reuben."

John considered this for a moment. His father had expressly forbidden such a move, but Penny hadn't been there to receive the orders and she clearly had her own agenda, one he rather liked. "I'd be happier if I could collect the bug I planted," he said slowly. "MI5 won't miss it when they search that office. I'd rather our technology didn't fall into their hands, even if we are on the same side."

"I don't like it," Gordon said.

"If we can stop him blowing this place up we'll save Four," John pointed out, smiling a little as Gordon turned to survey his craft, his resolve clearly wavering.

Virgil still needed to be convinced. "He could just blow this place up once he realises his people are missing."

"He won't do that straight away. I'm sure we've got time. If he's not in his office we'll come straight back. But he could be just metres above us. Do you really want him to escape?"

Virgil considered this. He, too, wanted Sir Reuben captured. MI5 could do the job, but it seemed wrong to give them the satisfaction when it was International Rescue who had been most badly hurt by the man. He walked across to Freddy.

"Any idea how long the countdown is on those things?" he asked, indicating the explosives.

"The default is two minutes," Freddy said.

Virgil didn't like it. "Not enough time for you to get back here and get away," he said as he headed back to the others. "And that's assuming we get that long. They could have set it for thirty seconds - or less."

"But the upper levels aren't rigged to explode," John pointed out. Unless the whole thing collapses we'll be okay."

"It's a risk we don't need to take," Gordon said, dragging his eyes away from Thunderbird Four.

"You're not going to take it," John said. "You're going to get the boats set up ready for us to make a quick getaway. Brains, Virg, you stay too, Scott needs you."

"Maybe you should take Scott out now," Penny said, cutting Virgil off before he could say anything else. She didn't like the idea of Scott having to wait any longer than necessary for the help he needed.

"Good idea," John said. "You can have Scott set up in Two's sickbay by the time we're ready to be picked up."

Virgil didn't like it. Gordon didn't like it either, but as John and Penny turned to confer with Freddy, they knew they didn't have any choice. There was no talking either of them out of something when they'd made their minds up and it wasn't as if they had the time to argue.

"Okay, we're off," John called.

Brains had expected them to take the direct route up to Sir Reuben's office via the elevator, but instead Freddy turned towards the living quarters.

"Freddy's going to take us a different way," Penny told him. "We can't use the elevator, just in case Sir Reuben's in his office. We don't want to warn him of our arrival."

Then they were on their way.

"Be careful," Virgil called after them, knowing he was wasting his breath.

"If they get blown up, you're telling Dad," Gordon muttered as he came to stand beside his brother.

"Thanks. Right then, shall we get the boats? The sooner we're set up, the sooner we can get Scott out of this place."

"Come on," Gordon said. "It'll be quicker if we both go."

Virgil handed Brains his gun, reminding the man to stay alert, then followed his brother into the water. Brains watched them go before looking distastefully down at the weapon. All it took was one moan from Scott and the gun was forgotten, shoved into his pocket as the genius gave all his attention to the injured man.

* * *

><p>As the elevator doors slid open, Marcus braced himself for an immediate confrontation with one of the International Rescue operatives. But the corridor was deserted and he made his way nervously to the door, keying in the security code and placing his palm on the pad next to the lock. There was a click and the door slid open as Marcus raised his gun, his whole body shaking.<p>

Nothing.

With a last, longing glance back up the corridor – reminding himself that the wrath of Sir Reuben was bound to be far worse than that of International Rescue - Marcus made his way to Thunderbird Four. His orders were clear: find Sahara and Thomas and get them out, or create a diversion to allow Eric Younger to do it if the odds were too strongly stacked against him. He'd been given the easier task - they knew that it was most likely that Sahara and Thomas would have been locked in the rooms where the original hostages had been kept, but there was a chance that they would have been brought to the dock ready to be moved off the island. Since no aircraft had been spotted, it seemed clear that the invading force must have come via boat. But there was no boat to be seen. Maybe they'd already left.

His brief spark of hope didn't last long as he heard a low voice murmuring something. Edging forward, he spotted his hated rival sitting on the ground next to Scott Tracy. Hackenbacker was doing something to an IV and seemed oblivious to Marcus's presence.

Marcus had never hated the man as much as he did at that moment. There he was, fit and well and ready to return to his old life. He couldn't help wondering what his own future held. If he was captured, well, the answer was easy - he'd spend the next twenty years at least in a prison cell. But even if he escaped, the future was uncertain. Exile in one of the world's most ruthless dictatorships offered the immediate advantage of freedom, but in the long-term, who knew what would happen. Dictators had a habit of being overthrown and their minions subjected to all sorts of unpleasantness. Marcus couldn't help wishing he'd never met Hackenbacker. Certainly, if it hadn't been for him, none of this would have happened.

The only bright spot right now was the fact that all the IR men had disappeared, presumably still up in the living quarters with their prisoners. Actually though, Marcus thought, maybe that wasn't such a good thing. Eric Younger would never be able to take on all of them and Thomas would remain a captive. With no one to fly them away, Marcus and Sir Reuben would just have to sit it out and wait for their arrest.

Marcus cursed himself for not learning to fly. Why hadn't he? He knew why, of course - he'd enjoyed the prestige of having one of Sir Reuben's pilots transport him around the world. But it would have been so easy to learn, especially for someone of his intelligence. The brilliant and oh-so-perfect Hiram Hackenbacker could fly, of course – Marcus had overheard him talking to Professor Franklin about his work for Jeff Tracy, which included developing new aircraft. He found himself resenting his rival more than ever.

He was about to turn back to the elevator when he suddenly pulled up sharply. He studied Hackenbacker carefully. He wasn't paying any attention to his surroundings, his whole focus on the injured man. There was neither sight nor sound of any of the others. Maybe things weren't so hopeless after all...

He wouldn't have done it if there had been anyone else around, but when his opponents amounted to one man who'd been beaten into unconsciousness and another who was even less physically imposing than Marcus himself, not to mention the fact that he carried a gun and, as far as he could see, Brains didn't, Marcus decided the odds were stacked high enough in his favour for him to risk it. The prospect of escape - and the thought of Sir Reuben's face when he realised that the man he'd spoken to so contemptuously just a few minutes earlier had managed to save the day - spurred him on and, clutching his gun with hands that barely shook at all now, he crept closer to his target.

Brains was completely unaware of his presence, still leaning over Scott who'd passed out again. Marcus was standing right beside him and had placed the gun in his back before he realised what was happening.

"Hello, Motormouth," Marcus whispered. "Did you think I'd forget about you?"

* * *

><p>Eric Younger had been held up on his way down to the lower levels. As he'd approached the entrance he'd heard hurried footsteps coming down the corridor and had quickly slipped into a nearby lab, ducking down under the window and listening intently. A second later the footsteps passed and he risked raising his head to see what was going on<p>

When he saw Penny and John, with Freddy marching along between them, he sat back and considered his options. They were presumably going to confront Sir Reuben, aided by Freddy who'd apparently switched sides in an effort to help himself. Brave of them, he thought, giving credit where it was due. The place was rigged to explode and they'd passed up the chance for a quick getaway. It made his life more complicated, though. He debated whether to go after them, then decided against it. They were armed - he'd seen the weapons they carried. He could take out one of them easily enough, but both? And with Freddy likely to get in the way? The risk of harm to himself was too great. He needed back-up and for that he needed Sahara and Thomas.

As he let himself out of the lab and continued on his way, he let his mind run through the various options. Sir Reuben was presumably captured by now. A rescue attempt would be dangerous and time-consuming. Why bother? All he cared about was Sahara. He needed Thomas to fly the helicopter, but he didn't need Sir Reuben. Maybe they should just make a run for it while they could...

He'd see what Sahara had to say. After Sir Reuben's reluctance to save Freddy she might well be willing to leave him behind. He hoped she wasn't going to insist on saving Freddy, though the fact that the man had changed sides might well persuade her that he was a lost cause.

Reaching the entrance to the hidden complex he slipped inside. But instead of making his way down the corridor, he opened the door of a store cupboard, climbed onto a pile of boxes and removed one of the panels in the ceiling. There were no partitions in the ceiling space to indicate the different rooms, just a mass of cables. Pulling himself up, he slowly and carefully slid himself along in the direction of the living quarters.

A couple of minutes later he stopped. He guessed he'd be near enough in the right place and, carefully prising up the corner of one of the panels, he squinted through the gap, smiling when he realised he'd judged the distance perfectly. He'd reached the room where Scott and Freddy had been held. Pulling the panel right up, he jumped down, readied his weapon, then walked quietly to the door. One of the International Rescue men was there, as he'd anticipated, but the man was clearly unaware of his presence, instead dividing his attention between the room in which the hostages were being held and the corridor.

It was an easy matter for Younger to raise his weapon, push the door open a fraction, and fire. The man dropped instantly and Younger kicked him out of the way as he unlocked the door and announced his arrival to those inside.


	36. Chapter 36

_As always, a massive thank you to everyone who's given me feedback on this. Whirlgirl and Rachel, I can't reply personally but I really do value your comments. No lost edits this time, thankfully!_

_Only one more chapter after this..._

Chapter Thirty-Six

Thomas stopped to look at Parker as he left the room.

"No blood... Tranquiliser dart?"

Younger nodded. "Call me paranoid but I don't like mixing bullets and bombs. Plus it's quieter. I didn't want to draw attention to my presence."

"Can we hurry this up?" Sahara asked, unhappy with the delay. She really didn't want to risk another run-in with Lady Penelope. The men could discuss weapons for as long as they liked once they were in the air. They had a five-hour flight ahead of them, after all.

They'd just reached the stairs when, somewhere in the distance, a shot rang out.

Marcus...

Younger had forgotten all about the engineer. Well, whatever trouble he'd got himself into, Younger wasn't going to be the one to get him out. He hurried the others along, wanting to get them well away from the explosive-laden lower levels before he suggested they forget Sir Reuben and make a break for it.

* * *

><p>Brains had jumped to his feet without thinking, so shocked was he to find Marcus holding a gun on him. He caught his breath in relief at the realisation that the man hadn't actually pulled the trigger when he'd moved. But he was still holding the gun, smiling the same cruel smile Brains remembered from Cambridge. He looked desperately out across the water but there was no sign of Virgil or Gordon. He debated going for the gun Virgil had left him, but, as much as he doubted Marcus's skill with a weapon, he knew his was little better. By the time he'd got the thing out of his pocket, released the safety catch and taken aim, Marcus could have shot at him ten times over. At least one of the bullets would have found its mark and he couldn't risk a stray one hitting Scott. He shot a quick glance at the pilot but Scott had drifted back into unconsciousness. In some ways Brains hoped he didn't wake up - the last thing Scott needed was to aggravate his injuries with any heroics.<p>

"Come on," Marcus said, reaching out to push Brains in the direction of the elevator. "I've got one last job for you."

Brains looked back towards the water. He saw Gordon swim into view and immediately pick up speed at the sight of Marcus, but he knew that even an Olympic champion was going to struggle to get to him in time.

"Hurry up!" Marcus waved the gun at Brains again and was about to move away when a cold and shaky hand sneaked its way around his ankle. There was no strength in the grip but Marcus was completely taken by surprise. He let out a high-pitched yelp and stumbled, his finger catching on the trigger. A shot rang out, the bullet missing Brains by inches and Marcus hit the ground, dropping the gun as he did so. Before he could recover himself, someone grabbed him by the shoulders, pulled him upright and hit him right on the nose.

Gordon had had a miserable couple of weeks since the theft of his 'bird. Finally faced with one of his adversaries, he let loose. He threw punch after punch at Marcus, each one a payback for Thunderbird Four.

Virgil pulled himself out of the water and joined Brains at Scott's side. The elder brother had a satisfied spark in his eye as he turned his head to watch Gordon pummel Marcus. He even tried to raise himself up to get a better view, but when Virgil was able to push him back down with just one finger, he admitted defeat and lay still.

Marcus didn't put up much of a fight and Gordon knew it would only take one more blow to knock him out completely. He raised his fist, only for someone to tap him on his shoulder.

"E-Excuse me, b-but might I...?"

Gordon looked at Brains in surprise, only the need to keep his friend's connection with International Rescue quiet stopping him from saying his name aloud. Instead he just stared dumbly at him for a moment before stepping aside, watching with interest along with Scott and Virgil as Brains moved up to a wavering Marcus.

Brains had never done this kind of thing before - in fact he'd never wanted to. He was, after all, the brains of the outfit. The Tracys were the brawn and any fighting was left to them. But having seen how much satisfaction first Penny, then Gordon, had gained from taking their frustrations out on those who had caused them, he simply couldn't help himself. If it had been anyone else he wouldn't have bothered, but this man had haunted him for years.

Raising a fist, he delivered a clumsy blow to Marcus's jaw. It might have been feeble by Tracy standards but it was enough to finish off Marcus, who dropped to the floor, an expression of pure astonishment on his face.

"Well?" Gordon asked, grinning from ear to ear as Brains cradled his hand, pain clearly etched on his face.

"A-an interesting ex-experiment, G-Gordon. A-as I-I thought. Physically p-painful, but psycho-l-logically r-rather enjoyable."

Gordon's smile suddenly faltered. "If he's down here... who knows who else is. I'm going to check on the others."

He ran down the corridor before anyone could stop him, returning just moments later with Parker slung over his shoulder.

"How bad?" Virgil asked, running to help.

"Tranquiliser. He'll be fine. But the girl and that guy are gone."

"Great. Now Penny and John are probably in trouble." Virgil cast a baleful glance at his wrist-comm, wishing once again that it was safe to use it.

"We've got to get up there," Gordon said. "Brains, can you set the boats up? Get Scott and Parker settled and be ready to move."

"That countdown's going to start any minute," Virgil said. "Brains, the moment that light changes colour, get out of here."

"B-but..."

"No arguments," Gordon told him. "Right, Virg, how do you want to handle this?"

* * *

><p>Sir Reuben had never counted patience amongst his few virtues, so it was no surprise that the wait for his team to return seemed interminable. After five minutes of pacing up and down his office he decided to use the time more productively. After all, he wasn't a fit man or a young one and he knew the long helicopter journey was going to be something of an ordeal. Taking the opportunity for one last visit to the bathroom, he was just reaching to unlock the door when he heard someone in his office.<p>

Cautious to the end, he forced himself to wait, just to be sure. If everything had gone according to plan it would be Sahara and the others, but with the kind of luck he'd had lately, he wouldn't have been surprised to see Lady Penelope or one of the men from International Rescue. Careful not to make any noise, he placed an ear to the door and listened.

He had to bite back a curse as he realised that, once again, things hadn't gone his way. Hoping his enemies would leave to continue the search elsewhere once they realised he wasn't in his office - the door to the bathroom was artfully concealed in the oak panelling which covered the wall - he held his breath and waited. To his irritation, not only did they stay right where they were, but he distinctly heard the voice of his nephew announcing that the bathroom might be a likely place for him to hide.

Damn Freddy, he thought. Couldn't the boy have kept his mouth shut one last time? Not stopping to wonder why his nephew would show him the slightest bit of loyalty after recent events, Sir Reuben took a step back and considered his options.

There weren't many. The door was locked and couldn't be opened from the outside. He was safe - but he couldn't stay there, not when MI5 would be arriving at any moment. He couldn't rely on his people coming to rescue him since there was no way of knowing if they'd got away. They might all be prisoners right now.

Ignoring the fact that even if he managed to escape he'd still have no way off the island without Thomas, Sir Reuben decided he had to make a move. He wasn't going down without a fight and he still had a few surprises up his sleeve.

* * *

><p>Penny and John were debating whether to break the door down or wait for MI5 to arrive when Freddy interrupted them with a cry.<p>

"He's coming out!"

Sure enough the door swung open and John and Penny brought their guns to bear upon the man who stood framed in the doorway.

"Lady Penelope," Sir Reuben said with a smile. "Freddy..." The smile turned to a snarl before he turned his attention to John. "I don't know your name but I believe you visited me yesterday," he said, causing Freddy to look at the blond man in surprise. He'd assumed the man was International Rescue, not someone from the American military sent to investigate Scott Tracy's 'death'. He'd certainly seemed on very familiar terms with the others and, dressed identically to them, there was no suggestion that they weren't part of the same organisation. He couldn't help wondering...

Aware of Freddy's eyes upon him and hoping that he hadn't made the connection, John smiled back at Sir Reuben but said nothing. Right now he was more concerned by the gun in Sir Reuben's right hand and the detonator which was clutched in his left.

"I really think you should give yourself up, Sir Reuben," Penny said. "You have nowhere to go."

"I don't give up," Sir Reuben said. "Until I know whether or not my people are captured I still have some hope. But what about you? Are your people safe, I wonder?" He raised the detonator, deliberately moving a finger to cover the switch, smiling as Penny and John tensed.

"Freddy?"

"Oh no, Uncle Reuben," the young man said, his eyes on the detonator rather than the gun. "Leave me out of it. I've had it with you."

"I'm sure you have. But perhaps you can help your new friends. Activate the security cameras for the lower levels. Perhaps once we work out who's where, we can decide who has the upper hand."

Freddy hesitated until John nodded at him after a glance at Penny. He didn't dare risk his brothers or Parker and Brains and he couldn't help wishing he'd followed orders and got out as soon as they'd found Scott. He pictured his father back on Tracy Island, listening to all this via the bug which was still transmitting and found himself flinching as he imagined what the man was thinking right now and what the likely consequences of his disobedience might be.

"Do it."

Freddy scuttled over to the wall, turning on a monitor and pressing a few buttons. A picture flashed onto the screen and Penny let out a cry of horror whilst Sir Reuben laughed at the sight of Parker lying motionless on the floor, the door to the room which had held his people standing wide open.

"Well, I do believe I have the advantage," Sir Reuben said. "As you can see, reinforcements will be arriving at any moment. I'm sure you understand there's nothing to be gained by trying to keep me here any longer. Put your weapons down, please - guns make me a little nervous and you wouldn't want my finger to slip would you? Not when your friend is lying there so helpless - and so close to those explosives."

Feeling utterly sick, Penny did as she was told. Her only hope now was that MI5 would arrive and tip the numbers back in her favour. She couldn't look at John, although out of the corner of her eye she saw him bend to place his gun on the floor.

Sir Reuben moved towards Penny, pointing the gun directly at her head. "Perhaps you'd like to escort me out of here, Lady Penelope?" he suggested. "Just to be on the safe side. I'm sure your friends won't want to put you in any danger by following me." He placed the detonator in his pocket and pulled her close with his free arm.

"Let's go," he said, beginning to back them away towards the door.

Freddy suddenly lunged at his uncle, grabbing the gun and pushing Penny to one side, yelling to John that it was a replica - a remote control in fact - and there was no danger. But as John reached down to pick up his own weapon a shot rang out, echoing around the room. He assumed it was Penny, that she'd managed to reach her gun. But then he realised that she was still face-down on the floor where she'd fallen when Freddy had pushed her away and he turned his attention back to Sir Reuben and his nephew.

Sir Reuben was watching Freddy intently, a satisfied smile breaking out as the man staggered backwards, blood soaking through the left side of his shirt. Clutching the wound, he stared back at his uncle, eyes wide with shock. He seemed to be trying to say something but was having too much trouble catching his breath to get the words out.

"You always were a fool," Sir Reuben told him. "Did you never stop to think that if the remote was a replica then I might still have the original?"

"Freddy!" Penny let out a scream as the man's legs gave way and he crashed to the floor. A second later the door flew open and Sahara rushed in, Younger and Thomas close behind. The two men took aim at John and Penny whilst Sahara stopped dead at the sight of Freddy, her expression a mixture of horror and disbelief.

"Sorry for the delay, Sir," Thomas said. Now wasn't the time, but he'd be telling his employer all about Eric Younger's attempt to bribe him into leaving without the man he'd sworn an oath of loyalty to when he'd joined his service. Sahara had backed him up, insisting on making one last effort to get Freddy McAllister away, something which had just added to Younger's annoyance. "Are you ready to go now?"

"Thank you, Thomas. Lady Penelope, Mr Whoever-you-are, it's been a pleasure."

Sir Reuben waved Younger and Thomas out of the room before turning his attention to the third member of his team. "Sahara?"

She ignored him, finally turning away from Freddy and looking between John and Penny as if seeking an answer, the hand which held her gun trembling.

"Sir Reuben shot him," Penny told her. "He was trying to save me."

Sahara turned back to Sir Reuben. "_You_ shot him?"

"I had no choice. He attacked me. You'd have done the same if it was the only way out. Now then, if you're coming with me you'd better hurry. These people can't do anything for Freddy until you're out of the way. Unless you're planning on staying? You've got about five seconds to decide."

Sahara took a step towards Freddy. His eyes opened and he looked at her for a moment before closing them again. His breathing was shallow now, the blood pooling beneath him. She didn't need to be a doctor to see that he wasn't going to make it.

"Freddy, I tried... I'm so sorry..." The tears began to fall as she turned away. All she could do now was save herself.

"Move it!" Sir Reuben ordered, grabbing her arm and shoving her out of the door. The moment she was out of the room he followed her, Thomas slamming the door shut behind him. Those left inside heard the sound of bolts sliding into place, but that was the least of their worries. John threw himself down beside Freddy, glancing towards Penny as he did so, only to be ordered to focus on the injured man.

Penny picked herself up and joined them, taking Freddy's hand as John did his best to stop the bleeding.

"Freddy?" she called softly.

His eyes flickered open, though his gaze was unfocused.

"Thank you."

He smiled, then let his head loll sideways so he was facing John.

"Inter...national... Rescue?"

John nodded. It didn't matter whether Freddy knew who he was or not now. The astronaut might as well give him his full name and address - Freddy wasn't going to last long enough to do anything with the information.

Freddy reached up with a shaking, bloody hand, grasping John's wrist with as much force as he could manage.

"It was... me," he whispered. "I stole... your... Thunder...bird. Me... No one's ever... ever done... that... No one... else."

He smiled. "Just me."

His hand dropped down and his eyes rolled back into his head.

"Oh no," Penny whispered as John sat back. There was nothing more they could do and Penny finally reached out and gently closed Freddy's eyes.

The sound of the elevator rising up from the lower levels startled them and, Freddy forgotten for the moment, they jumped to their feet, retrieving their weapons ready to face whoever was on their way.

When the elevator door slid open and they saw the crumpled figure of Marcus, they looked at each other in confusion.

"Marcus?" Penny called, as John stepped carefully into the elevator. He got the shock of his life when a cheerful voice from above called his name. Looking up, he saw Gordon and Virgil waving at him from a hole in the ceiling.

"What are you doing up there?" he asked.

"Well, we _were_ mounting a rescue," Virgil told him, dropping down to the floor of the elevator and moving aside so Gordon could follow, "But it looks as though everything's quiet in here."

"You should have been here a couple of minutes ago," John told him. "You missed all the action."

"What happened?" Virgil asked, suddenly realising that his brother's hands were bright with blood.

John stepped aside to give Virgil a look at Freddy.

"He tried to save me," Penny told him. She moved back to the dead man, gazing down at him for a moment before Virgil gently took her arm and pulled her away.

"Come on," he said as he steered her over to the elevator.

Shocked as she was, it took another moment or two for Penny to realise that she'd forgotten something important. _"Parker!"_

"He's fine," Gordon told her. "He got shot with a tranquilizer dart but Brains is looking after him. Why don't we go and see him?"

Deciding to leave Freddy where he was rather than risk a second trip in the elevator, they squeezed into the small space and began the journey down, fearful that at any moment Sir Reuben would decide to detonate the explosives.

* * *

><p>Sir Reuben knew he didn't have much time. He might have escaped International Rescue but MI5 would be arriving at any moment. Ahead of him, Sahara and Younger were running towards the helipad. Faithful as always, Thomas kept pace with him - and it was a slow pace, since even walking was usually an effort for Sir Reuben. He wheezed breathlessly and tried to ignore the pounding of his heart as he focused on putting one foot in front of the other, leaning more heavily on the other man with every step.<p>

Sahara pulled herself into the helicopter barely able to focus on what she was doing. She'd run blindly, following Younger but only able to think of Freddy. She'd tried to protect him and she'd failed. Sir Reuben had killed him. Pushing aside her own guilt - if she hadn't tricked him into coming back to the island he'd be safe and well now - she focused on her hatred for her employer. She looked back towards the house, registering through her tears that Sir Reuben was barely halfway to the helicopter.

"Hurry up!" Younger yelled, hovering at the helicopter's door. The sound of footsteps startled him and he jerked his head round, expecting to see a raiding party, then relaxing just a fraction as he realised it was Ash, stumbling along the path which came up from Freddy's beach house.

"Ash! Get over here!"

Younger's shout startled Sahara. She'd forgotten all about the man. He had been Freddy's friend. If only the drug had worn off a little earlier he might have been able to help Freddy, to do what she couldn't...

"Ash?"

"What's going on?" The man stared at Sahara's tear-stained face in confusion.

"Freddy's dead."

_"What?"_

"Sir Reuben..."

"Sahara, get strapped in!" Younger told her, jumping in himself. "As soon as Thomas gets here we need to get this thing moving."

"I can fly her," Ash said.

"Go on, then," Younger said. He leaned out of the helicopter. Sir Reuben and Thomas were just a short distance away now. "Come on!"

"Leave them!" Sahara ordered, making them jump with the sharpness of her voice, a total contrast to the low shaky tone with which she'd spoken to Ash just seconds before.

"But..." Ash was lost for words, especially when Sahara pointed her gun at him. He took one look at the weapon and started the engine.

Younger looked at her a little hesitantly, understanding exactly why she was doing this and wondering if she'd leave him behind too. After all, he'd been more than happy to abandon Freddy. But she didn't tell him to get out and he settled in his seat, snapping his safety belt closed.

"Where are we going?"

"No idea. Ash, just get us out of here."

The helicopter slowly lifted off the ground. The last thing they saw was Sir Reuben's furious face as he watched his final hope of freedom disappear.

"That's for Freddy," Sahara whispered as they left the island behind them.

Sir Reuben and Thomas came to a sharp halt as the helicopter disappeared into the night. The security guard swore and spun round, looking for an escape that just wasn't there, whilst Sir Reuben collapsed to the ground, one hand clutching at his heart in a grim mimicry of the way his nephew had fallen to the floor. But there was to be no easy way out for him. He was still sitting there, red-faced and breathless, cursing both Freddy and Sahara, when the first of the MI5 helicopters arrived just a minute or so later.

"It's over," Thomas said, coming to sit beside him. He might wish things had turned out differently, but he had been a soldier and an oath of allegiance wasn't something to be treated lightly. He'd go down with his leader.

Sir Reuben watched as the helicopter approached. How had it all gone so wrong? Now here he was left alone to face the consequences of it all. He'd be the only one - Freddy was probably dead by now,whilst Sahara and Younger had escaped along with the company's research data which had already been stowed in the luggage hold of the helicopter. If they could get away they'd be set for life - there were plenty of regimes who'd pay handsomely for that information. It looked like the only friend he had left was Thomas, and he'd be no use now.

As the spotlight from the helicopter lit up the helipad, Sir Reuben made his decision. There was nothing left for him, only a prison cell and public humiliation.

As armed men began to emerge from the helicopter, he drew his old service weapon one last time.

"Sir?"

He ignored Thomas's voice and the shouts from MI5. Placing the gun at his temple, he hesitated for a moment, contemplating his one remaining option.

Only when the current head of MI5, a man Sir Reuben had always resented, emerged from the helicopter, his look of pleasure at Sir Reuben's downfall obvious, did the man finally make his choice.

As he pulled the trigger of his gun, his finger hit the button on the detonator.


	37. Chapter 37

_And it's done! A very different story to the one I expected to write but that's what happens when you write as you post. If all goes according to plan, next up will be some shorter pre-Thunderbirds stories I've had in mind for some time now. I've got another longer TB story idea but I want to get that one completely written before I publish it._

_Thank you so much to everyone who's supported me throughout this story, whether by reviewing, alerting, favouriting or just continuing to read. Whirlgirl, as always you've been a fantastic reviewer, thanks for all the advice and comments (and I do need to work on my descriptions!). Rachel, thanks for your reviews, I've really appreciated them. I'm glad you liked the Brains bit - I'd been looking forward to writing that part for a long time!_

_Hope you enjoy the ending. _

_Bee_

Chapter Thirty-Seven

Alan had lost count of the number of times he'd wished he'd kept his mouth shut when Virgil was looking for volunteers to take over his position piloting Two. Truth be told, he'd regretted it as soon as he'd said he'd do it, and only the knowledge that it would help Scott if he got to be reunited with his closest brother sooner rather than later kept him from backing out. But the wait for news had been sheer torture and he'd have given anything to be down there in the thick of things despite the danger, rather than hovering aimlessly waiting for news.

It wasn't as if he didn't have anything to occupy his thoughts beyond wild imaginings of what was going on with his brothers. A hundred yards to the east was one of Sir Reuben's attack helicopters, more than likely one of those which had given Scott so much trouble. But this one wasn't doing anything - like Two it was just waiting for something to happen on the island.

Alan had begged his father to let him take it on. Okay, Two might not have the manoeuvrability of One, or the speed, but her sheer bulk made her a tougher proposition when it came to withstanding a missile attack. She could probably take a couple of hits as long as they weren't anywhere vital. Virgil would just have to suck it up - after all, Alan reasoned, he should have learned by now that lending his toys to younger brothers was just asking for trouble. But when he'd suggested it to his father, Jeff had immediately negated the idea. Not out of concern for Two, or Virgil, or even for Alan himself, but in fear of the consequences should Scott be deprived of immediate aid when he needed it.

So Alan had been forced to abandon all thoughts of attack, instead resigning himself to sitting there waiting for the call to come in to pick up his brothers. But, he promised himself, when that call came, if the helicopter showed the slightest inclination to stop him going to the rescue, he'd give her crew something to remember him by. Two carried missiles - usually used for blasting through thick seams of rock on rescues - and Alan already had them primed and ready, just in case.

But the call hadn't come, and the longer he waited, the more edgy he became. His father was tense too - Alan could see his eyebrows knitting more closely together as the minutes ticked by. He knew that, like him, his father was itching to put out a call to find out why things were taking so long, but the prospect of activating the explosives which they knew were all over the lower levels stopped them both.

Alan had been monitoring John's bug in Sir Reuben's office, so when he heard the door opening he alerted his father. The pair expected to hear Sir Reuben himself or one of his team and sure enough they weren't disappointed. But when it became apparent that their enemies were on the attack, Sir Reuben sending someone - incompetent as he appeared to be - down to the lower levels, both father and son stared at each other in panic.

"They're on to them," Alan said. "Dad, I need to go in."

"Stay where you are, Alan!" his father said, though his reluctance at giving the order was clear. "There's nothing you can do. With any luck the boys will already be on their way out."

"Luck?" Alan actually laughed. "What's that?"

Jeff said nothing.

When, five minutes later, they heard the familiar voices of John and Penny, Jeff's rage was frightening. Alan said nothing, having the sensitivity to realise that now wasn't the time to be point-scoring over reckless elder brothers. Jeff was livid, threatening his second-born with the direst of punishments for disobeying orders. Only John's hurried message giving the good news that Scott was alive and doing well under Brains' care shut his father up. His rant lost its edge, though he still promised John some heavy punishment once he got back to the island. Alan thought it was just as well that the bug was only a transmitter - if John could have heard his father right now he'd have had second thoughts about ever going home.

When Sir Reuben made his entrance and quickly gained the upper hand, Jeff and Alan had just stared at each other, clearly wondering whether it was time to move in to the island. But what could Alan do? Two couldn't land, there was nowhere big enough, and any incursion into the airspace around the enemy helicopter might be seen as an act of aggression. As much as they wanted to do something to help, they knew it was hopeless.

The gunshot shocked them both and Alan turned pale, remembering Virgil's injury and his own desperate efforts to save his brother from bleeding to death. When they realised the victim was Freddy Alan couldn't help the quick shout of "Yes!" that escaped. His father's sharp rebuke cut short his celebrations and he tried to explain that he wasn't rejoicing in Freddy's injury so much as John's lack of hurt. But when it became clear that Freddy was mortally wounded and that Sir Reuben and the others had escaped, Jeff sat back and ran a hand over his eyes, relief that John and Penny were safe conflicting with his anger that the situation had been allowed to get out of hand in the first place.

"This is a disaster," he said softly. "Why didn't they get out of there right away?"

"At least they'll be on their way out now," Alan said, smiling as Virgil and Gordon arrived, too late for a rescue but with the good news that the man Sir Reuben had sent to the lower levels had been captured and that Parker was okay. "Hear that, Dad? It won't be long now. I'll just- Oh, wait a minute, there's another helicopter approaching. Must be Sir Reuben. Can I shoot it down, Dad? Please?"

Jeff hesitated. He wanted to say yes, really he did. But there was the other helicopter to consider. Alan reported that it was moving into position to give cover to the other craft. Two couldn't take them both on.

Before he could say anything, Alan sighed and gave the answer himself. "Okay, I know. Hold position. MI5 are here, by the way. I'm monitoring their transmissions. One helicopter's heading this way." He broke off for a quick discussion with MI5. "They're on the case Dad. I'll track Sir Reuben just in case they lose him, but-"

Gordon's voice broke unexpectedly through the speakers, sounding breathless and anxious. "They've started the countdown! This place is going up any minute. Alan, get over here now! We're coming out through the cave - it's the only way, but the shockwave's likely to be more than the inflatables can handle. Be ready to pick us up."

"Forget Sir Reuben," Jeff said, even as Alan yelled "FAB!" and hit the thrusters. "Go get your brothers."

* * *

><p>They'd just made it out of the elevator, John and Gordon dragging Marcus between them, when a high-pitched beep caught their attention. As one, they looked up at the nearest bundle of explosives, just in time to see the blue light turn green.<p>

"Freddy said one minute!" Virgil said, picking up speed and urging the others on.

"Unless they modified it," John reminded him, ever the pessimist.

They charged through the door, which Gordon had had the foresight to wedge open in order to facilitate a quick getaway, hoping to see just one remaining boat. At least if Brains had managed to get Scott and Parker away the mission wouldn't have been a complete failure. But both boats were still there, Brains oblivious to their arrival and the imminent explosion as he supported Parker, who was leaning over the side of the boat clearly the worse for wear after the tranquiliser he'd been given.

"Brains!"

The engineer looked up sharply at Virgil's shout. Parker didn't even register it, slumping forward as Brains loosened his hold for a moment.

"Get moving!" Virgil reached the boat, glancing back to see that the others were all there. Throwing himself in, narrowly missing Scott who was fast asleep - sedated, Brains told him, since he'd insisted on trying to follow his brothers up to Sir Reuben's office - he got the engine started, sending the boat hurtling towards the entrance to the tunnel. Brains settled Parker next to Scott - the man had a life-jacket on so he'd at least have a chance at survival, being in no condition for a swim - before turning his attention to Scott, pulling out the IV and ripping off the leads of the monitors in case the boat capsized and the equipment got in the way or dragged Scott down. Then he pulled a life-jacket over his head. Virgil tried to keep his focus on getting them into the tunnel before the complex blew, though he couldn't help continually looking back to the dock. The second boat had only just left and he yelled at his brothers to hurry up before he lost sight of them as he steered the boat into the tunnel. Any second now, he thought, wondering if their luck would hold and they'd make it out to open sea before the complex blew.

They very nearly did. Virgil could just make out the entrance to the cave when there was a deafening roar from behind him followed by a tidal wave that sent the boat shooting forward, tossed violently from side to side. He threw himself over Scott, praying he didn't injure his brother any more but needing to keep him from being thrown out of the boat. His ears ringing from the explosion, he knew he was yelling into his wrist-comm but he couldn't hear the words. All he could do was hold on and hope the boat could make it out to open water. Then suddenly they were out, the wild movements of the boat slowly settling. Virgil carefully raised himself up, checking on Scott, Brains and Parker first before looking around for the other boat.

It wasn't there.

* * *

><p>Gordon and John threw Marcus into the second boat, John helping Penny in before jumping in himself. Looking around for Gordon he saw his brother gazing sadly across at what was left of Four. His lips moved soundlessly as he said goodbye and John found himself turning away so as not to embarrass his brother. He sent his own silent apology across to Four, knowing full well that if he hadn't gone along with Penny's plan, the submarine might have survived. Freddy certainly would have... A sudden wave of guilt hit him and he wondered if Penny felt the same way. She'd been very quiet since the young man had died.<p>

When something heavy hit him in the back, John's first thought was that the explosives had finally detonated. It took a moment for him to realise that it wasn't a rock or part of the complex - in fact, everything remained intact, the light on the nearest bundle of explosives still green. Shoving whatever it was off him, he pulled himself upright and helped Gordon start the engine and steer the boat towards the tunnel. Only then did he realise that what had hit him was the pilot's seat of Thunderbird Four.

"Glad you could save part of her, Gords," he said softly, grabbing the life-jackets and handing them out, quickly getting the still-unconscious Marcus sorted before pulling one on himself.

"Not safe yet," Gordon muttered, busily busy tying his life-jacket to the arm of the chair before inflating it, much to Penny's bewilderment.

Just as they reached the entrance to the tunnel, the complex blew.

As Gordon had predicted, the shockwave sent a tidal wave through the tunnel. The boat was thrown against the jagged rocks which lined the sides, those inside forced to hang on tightly as they lost all control and found themselves at the mercy of the wave. How they got out without the boat being ripped apart, they never knew, but after a terrifying thirty seconds or so, the little boat shot out of the tunnel, only to smash against a rock and be thrown into the air. This time there was no avoiding an upset and they were all hurled into the churning water.

Virgil's shout of relief at the sight of the second boat was quickly followed by a panicked intake of breath as four figures disappeared into the water. He instantly threw himself over the side and struck out for the other boat, which floated upside down. As he drew near, a dark head bobbed up and he had to take a moment to recognise Penny.

"You okay?" he yelled.

She nodded and he pulled her across to the boat, instructing her to hold on until Two arrived.

"John!"

Penny's cry made Virgil turn around and he reached out to help his brother steer Marcus over to the boat. The man was conscious again, the cold water having revived him, and he coughed and spluttered but seemed none the worse for his experience.

"Where's Gordon?" John looked around frantically.

"Haven't seen him." Virgil took a deep breath and dived beneath the surface, reappearing a moment later. "No sign of him."

"Here's Two," John said as the familiar sound of the engines was heard and a searchlight began to sweep back and forth between the two boats.

Virgil gave his 'bird a grateful glance before turning his attention back to his missing brother. "Tell Al to drop the diving gear. He might be-"

"Wait a minute!" John started to laugh. "Look, over there!"

Virgil turned to follow his brother's gaze and couldn't help laughing himself. There, on top of the rocky outcrop the boat had hit, was Gordon, sitting on what Virgil knew had to be Four's pilot's seat, feet up on a convenient rock, waving cheerfully in their direction.

They'd all made it.

* * *

><p>Alan had been surprised when Virgil didn't kick him out of the pilot's chair straight away, but the middle brother had been worried about any damage he might have done to Scott as he tried to keep him securely in the boat, so had spent the first twenty minutes of the flight in sick bay, helping Brains give his brother the attention he needed and doing his best to take care of Parker. The man had moved seamlessly from seasick to airsick, pleading with Virgil to just throw him out of Two and have done with it. Penny had wanted to stay with him, but Parker had begged her to leave. Out of consideration for him she'd done so, but not without a longing look across at Scott before she'd gone.<p>

Finally, with Scott stable and Parker asleep, Virgil had left Brains to it, hastily changing back into his uniform and making his way up to the cockpit. As he neared his destination he heard hurried footsteps and was nearly knocked out of the way by a red-faced John who barely acknowledged him as he pushed past. Knowing from experience that when John was in that kind of mood it was better to steer clear and give him time to calm down, Virgil continued on his way, pausing for a moment at the entrance to the cockpit to assess Alan's attempt to fly his 'bird before ordering his brother to hand her over to someone who knew what they were doing.

"What's up with John?" he asked.

"Dad's mad."

"Oh."

The debriefing wasn't going to be pleasant, Virgil thought.

He was right, but in the end he didn't get to witness it. Jeff had said little when they'd arrived, his first concern being for Scott. Only when his eldest was safely settled in the infirmary under the care of Brains - ably assisted by Grandma - did he go to call everyone together. But Penny, who had been hovering around the infirmary ostensibly to check on Parker, took him aside for a word. After a few moments, Jeff nodded before calling for John then taking his son and his London agent into his office. It was over an hour before they emerged, both John and Penny white-faced and grim, whilst Jeff stayed where he was, apparently preparing himself for a difficult conversation with MI5.

"How bad was it?" Alan asked his brother.

"Bad enough," John said. "Not that I needed Dad to tell me that if we'd done what he ordered, Freddy and Sir Reuben would probably be alive right now."

Neither Alan nor Virgil knew what to say to that. They could hardly disagree and John wasn't the type to respond to well-meaning platitudes.

"Is he banishing you to Five?" Alan asked.

"No. I'm grounded."

"What? Oh great, I'm going to be stuck up there for Tin-Tin's birthday, now."

"No, actually Brains wants to go up once Scott's better. He told Dad he wants some time alone to get his head round it all."

"So you're staying here with us? And that's punishment?"

John managed a smile. "Where's Gordon?"

"Where'd you think?"

"Not still down in New Four?"

"Yep, sitting in his old seat getting to know his new 'bird," Virgil told him. "He says she feels more like old Four now. We'll be ready for a test run in a couple of days - he's quite enthusiastic."

"He took Four's loss better than I thought he would," John said. That was something else he felt bad about.

"She was already gone," Virgil told him. "Even if we'd saved what was left, she'd have needed so many new parts it might as well have been a new machine. He knew that, John; he said so while we were carrying Marcus along to the elevator."

"At least he got to hand Marcus over to MI5," Alan said. "I think he enjoyed that."

"Not as much as he enjoyed watching Brains punch the guy," Virgil said. "Honestly, you should have seen it. Funniest thing I've ever seen in my life. John, did you know Marcus still had the data from Four in his pocket, so we've got that back? Whatever those people got away with, at least they're not going to be able to build another Four."

"That's good. There's no news of them yet, is there?"

"Nothing. MI5 couldn't pick up any trace of them and I was too busy worrying about you guys to track them," Alan told him. "The other guy they caught won't talk so Penny's going to look for them. As soon as Parker's up to flying she's heading back to England."

"She's taken it hard," Virgil said.

"Well, she was the one who wanted to go after Sir Reuben in the first place," Alan said. "No wonder she wanted to do the debrief in private. Where is she, anyway?"

"In the infirmary, where else?"

* * *

><p>Brains' analysis of Parker's blood had shown that the tranquiliser had contained some fairly nasty chemicals - one of Marcus's special concoctions, apparently. It took a good forty-eight hours before he was up and about again and feeling fit enough to fly. Penny said a final farewell to the Tracys and Brains before heading down to the infirmary to see Scott one last time. Full of painkillers and with the benefit of plenty of rest, he was much more himself now, and Brains was pleased with his progress.<p>

He smiled as she came in and sat down beside him.

"Hey, Penny. You're leaving us then?"

"Yes. There's a lot to do if I'm to track down Sahara and Eric Younger."

"Still no trace?"

"Not yet. But something will come up. I _will_ find them, Scott. I promise."

"Sure you will." He smiled and indicated a newspaper which lay on the bed beside him. Kyrano had picked it up on that morning's supply run. "Looks like I made the front page."

"Indeed," Penny said, taking the paper and smoothing it out. The main story was still the dramatic demise of Sir Reuben McAllister, but there was a fair bit of space given to the news that Scott Tracy and Hiram Hackenbacker, chief engineer of Tracy Industries, had miraculously survived their helicopter crash. "The story of your fight for survival with nothing more than an inflatable dinghy and a bottle of water seems to have convinced everyone. So convenient that International Rescue should have been in the area to find you after you'd been adrift all that time."

"Yeah. Dad told me Tracy Industries' share prices have gone up again now that Brains is back, so he's happy. It's a shame Lola didn't make it, though. Guess I'm going to have to play the part of the grieving widower for a while."

"Well, I suppose it does save you the trouble of getting a divorce."

"It feels good to be a single man again, I can tell you," Scott said. "And you can dye your hair blonde again and go back to being plain old Penny."

Penny swallowed, the smile fading just a little.

"Something wrong?" Scott asked.

Penny hesitated before shaking her head. Why couldn't he see it? And why couldn't she just tell him? Instead she moved the conversation back to safer ground. "I feel so guilty, Scott. If I hadn't been set on getting my revenge on Sir Reuben, Freddy would be alive now and John wouldn't be in so much trouble with your father."

"Why were you so keen on getting back at him?" Scott asked. "He didn't hurt you, did he?"

"No, Scott. He didn't hurt me. But he hurt you. Look at you, lying here in the infirmary. Your poor face..."

Scott took her hand awkwardly. "Penny, come on. I'm fine. A couple of days' rest and some more of Grandma's chicken soup and I'll be back to normal."

"I believe Brains said it would take at least two weeks."

"Well, we'll see. But anyway, it won't be long before everything's back the way it was."

"Isn't there anything you'd like to be different?"

"No. Why would I want to change anything? My life's perfect just the way it is."

"Well, as long as you're happy." Penny pulled her hand away as Tin-Tin came in, aware of the girl's curious gaze.

"Lady Penelope, Mr Tracy asked me to tell you that the jet is ready to leave."

"Thank you, Tin-Tin." Penny turned back to Scott. "Well, I suppose I should be on my way."

"Good luck with the search, Penny," Scott said. "I'll call you."

"That would be nice. Goodbye Scott."

"'Bye Penny."

"Tin-Tin."

"Goodbye Lady Penelope." Tin-Tin watched the other woman closely, wondering if she was picking up the right signals and if she was, why Scott seemed so oblivious to them.

Penny paused at the door, wondering whether to abandon all her dignity and just tell Scott how she felt, even with Tin-Tin there to witness it all. Then he looked up and smiled at her.

"Penny?"

"Yes, Scott?" Penny couldn't help hoping...

"If you see Virg on your way out ask him to come down, will you? There's a baseball game on soon, I could use some company to watch it."

Penny forced a smile. "Of course, Scott."

Then she was gone.

Scott looked up to see Tin-Tin glaring at him.

"What?"

Tin-Tin shook her head. "Nothing." She moved to follow Penny out of the door.

Scott watched her go wondering if he'd heard her final muttered comment right. Sinking back down into his pillows he decided he'd been mistaken.

After all, how could he ever be as hopeless as Alan?


End file.
